My high school job was at a "breakfast all day long" place. After graduation, it turned into a full-time job. Corin was the night-shift waitress the whole time, and pretty much ran the place. She liked me because I showed up when scheduled. Corin was old enough to be my mom but she was cute. Red-head, pale skin, freckles, green eyes. She was on the short side and petite, full of energy, but oddly shy. As a normal teenage boy, I was fascinated with boobs. When Corin and I would go on break during the evening, we'd walk out of the hot kitchen to take a smoke behind the place and her nipples would poke out in the cool air. I'd pretend to not stare and she'd pretend to not notice. It's not as if she had huge boobs -- actually they were on the smallish side. But they were high up on her chest and perky and, I liked to imagine, firm and silky. For a fact, she had big nipples.
I was your average high school loser, then aimless graduate. I'd dated, but never seemed to know what to say or how to act around girls. My claim to fame was a dubious arrival at second base during senior prom. And also a face-full of Corin's boobs. I'll explain. When my parents split up Corin was my confidant. She'd listen to me complain and whine while we smoked. One day early on I got all dopey emotional and was snuffling and she told me it would work out and gave me a momma-bear hug and because of the way I was sitting down it ended up as a face-full of boob. Needless to say, that moment fueled my teenage fantasies for months. It was therapeutic, too -- instead of thinking about how I'd been wronged by life I'd think about how I might like Corin's boobs out of that nasty black polyester work shirt. The years spooled by and I was a twenty-year-old, aimless kitchen rat who knew how to cook eggs two dozen different ways.
There was one other high-school-era, stupid event I can't forget. I was sitting out back smoking with another teenage loser, swapping obvious lies about our supposed sexual exploits. I had just finished saying some made-up bullshit along the lines of "I like eating pussy but only if the girl's shaved and clean down there" when I realized Corin was standing right behind me. Damn! I turned beet red and figured it might be my last day at work. Corin just lit up and sat down and I started wondering if she'd somehow not heard me. I finally convinced myself she hadn't heard me. Years later I learned she'd heard me.
Corin went through a long, nasty marriage. She finally showed up with a black eye and without her ring. She moved into her sister's house, cried a lot while we smoked, and then complained about how expensive lawyers were. I hoped for another hug, tried to be a friend, and agreed that her ex was a douche. The months spooled by, and eventually Corin asked me if she could borrow my truck and myself for a Sunday afternoon -- she was moving out of her sister's and into her own apartment. I was happy to help and we moved her in just a few hours. She had almost nothing, really -- a bed, a dresser, a really old and really crappy television, an older and crappier computer, and half dozen boxes of clothes. At least half of her clothes were work uniforms. And, it was the first time I'd ever seen her wearing anything except black polyester slacks and her black polyester button-up waitressing shirt. In tight jeans and a tight T-shirt she looked better than ever.
We were sitting on the stairs of her new place, relaxing, and smoking. It felt like any other day, almost, but we were on the narrow stairs right up against each other. I was so aware of her squeezed against me and could feel her warmth. Her new neighbor had already referred to me as Corin's 'helpful son' and I was thinking about how weird that was because, more than ever, I was aware of how sexually attractive I found her. How Corin had said to the neighbor "I don't have kids. But he's my honorary son." How if I was better at talking maybe we could chat about something other than trivial things. How cute her face and smile were. And, of course, those small breasts in that tight T-shirt. Like so many days over the past years I tried to think of anything else while my cock wanted to get completely hard. All this churned around and around in my head while we sat in silence. And then Corin said, "I remember you only like it if it's shaved and clean down, uh, there. But I did it and... it is. So, uh, would you maybe like to, you know, eat my pussy? Or, whatever?" It took me a second to realize I hadn't just imagined it, again. She'd actually said it this time.
I looked right in those green eyes of hers. Her pupils were huge. Her face was flushed. She was breathing really shallow and fast. And I managed to say "That would be so great!"
I didn't care how awkward it was. I jumped up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her after me into her new apartment. I closed and locked the door, she yanked the curtain closed, and we stood there looking at each other with goofy smiles.
"I guess I'll take off my pants? Are you sure you want to, you know, do this?" she said.
I tried to think of something funny or sexy to say, and then said, "Uh huh."
Then I started stripping off her jeans. She wasn't wearing any panties, and as I dropped to my knees and shucked her pants down to her ankles her little pink slit was finally in front of me. For a split second I thought I should kiss her on the mouth first -- wouldn't that be gentlemanly? -- and then I stuck my tongue into her tiny, shaved, slick pussy. She said, "Oh!"
We dropped down onto the floor -- still bare tiles -- and she laid there like she wasn't sure what to do. I started licking her pussy like crazy -- I had no idea what I was supposed to do, either. After a minute she started to relax, bent her legs a little at the knee, spread them a little further apart, I pulled off one of her shoes and got her jeans off one of her legs. She really spread her legs open for me. Her pussy smelled sweet and like sex. More than anything I could ever have imagined. She tasted a little salty, like being outside in the wind, maybe. Like nothing I'd ever tasted before. She tasted like pussy. I realized she was tense -- I was going at it too hard and fast, so I slowed down and started kissing her pussy, licking it, gently sucking her pussy lips into my mouth. As soon as I slowed, she breathed in and out steadily, deeply, and then I felt her relax everywhere. I loved the feel of her thighs and labia on my face and thought I could stay there forever.
She said, "It's like I hoped. Better. Nobody's ever kissed me like that before. I mean, down there. Like that. I'm glad you like it. Thank you for doing this for me."
I said something incoherent. In my head it was sexy.
She started arching her back, bucking up against my face gently. She put her finger directly above her clitoris, and said, "Could you maybe try a little up there, right there, a little? Just soft. Lick. I really like this. Thank you."
I said, "I love your pussy, it's so beautiful."
She said, "It is? I'm glad you think it is. Did I get it shaved right for you?"
I said, "Everything is perfect."
