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When I peeked through the curtains to see who it was knocking on the door, I chuckled at the sight of Sara Wilson, who turned out to be a woman of her word. Before she left my place a couple of nights ago she had asked me whether she could come back with a friend.
That answer was a definite yes, because for the couple of hours Sara had been there, she made my 58 year old body feel I was 18 again, just like Sara. I hadn’t had sex with an 18 year old girl since I was that age myself, and while Sara Wilson was no beauty queen by any stretch of the imagination, being with a girl without the baggage that comes with age was special for me.
It had started when she was riding her bicycle past my house and stopped to check out some stuff I had outside and was trying to get rid of. Being newly retired and fresh off of a divorce, I discovered I had a lot of time on my hands and a lot of crap around the house I didn’t want or need, so I threw it out in the driveway and hoped to get rid of it, not really caring if the stuff just got bought or stolen.
So enter Sara, who looked vaguely familiar to me. Familiar with the book Sara Plain and Tall? Me neither, but I’ve seen plenty of students carrying it around over the years, and plain and tall seemed to fit young Sara Wilson to a T. I’m 6’3″ and this girl wasn’t all that much shorter than me.
As for plain, she wore glasses and her long black hair was pulled back to make her look like the classic image of the stereotypical librarian. It being a warm day she was wearing a baggy t-shirt that revealed little outside of the fact she was skinny and had furry forearms.
Adding to the librarian look, she went over to the table where I had probably over a hundred books stacked up, and as she looked through them I wandered over to chat.
“Hi there,” I said cheerfully. “No reasonable offer refused – no unreasonable ones either,” I added.
“Oh,” the girl said, so engrossed in her browsing that she hadn’t notice me approach. “Hi – um… Mr. Bailey.”
I looked at her with a quizzical expression, wondering who she was since she seemed to know me but drawing a blank.
“I had you in ninth grade English. Sara. Sara Wilson,” she explained.
“Sara!” I said cheerfully, pretending that I actually remembered the girl even though I was drawing a blank.
Thirty five years of teaching thousands of kids, along with a memory that isn’t what it used to be, had me at a disadvantage, but the more I looked at her I actually began to recall her. She was just as nondescript back then as she was now, but I did remember her furry forearms along with her sitting in the front row to my far left.
“Of course!” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder and giving the bony joint a squeeze, and when I told her I remember where she sat and even recalling what period I had her in, he seemed happy that I really knew who she was.
I mentioned that I was now retired, and didn’t add it was girls like Sara that made the decision easier. Not really like Sara, who was very straight-laced and shy, but the more brazen ones. Every year the clothing got more provocative and the behavior of the kids – most noticeably the girls – got more bold.
I’m a pretty good looking guy for my age, or at least that’s what I’ve been told, and the constant flirting and teasing by these young girls was tough to resist, not to mention having them giving you plenty of looks up skirts without panties. That’s gone on for years, even back in the good old days when the girls had hair between their legs, but it has gotten worse in recent years.
It was an invitation for serious trouble, so I got out of the profession with my reputation intact along with a lot of regrets for not being able to take up some of the amazing offers I got from some of these “ladies”. Now retired, I was free to squeeze Sara’s shoulder without being brought up on charges.
“You know, to be honest at first I didn’t recognize you,” I admitted, but quickly added, “That’s because you’ve changed so much. You’ve become quite a lovely young woman.”
She blushed at my bullshit but didn’t protest at my exaggerating, and after giggling turned an even deeper crimson when she made a confession.
“When I was in your class, I had a major crush on you,” Sara admitted, giggling and turning away while adding, “Can’t believe I told you that.”
“Really?” I said, and even though over the years I’ve been told that several times, it still excites me. “I’m flattered.”
“I was just a goofy kid.”
“Maybe, but you had impeccable taste,” I said with a laugh, looking down at the parts of her slender legs her shorts and socks revealed. “What was that, four years ago?”
“Yeah. Just graduated.”
“Congratulations. Off to college?”
“Yeah. SUNY at Cortland. Thinking about teaching.”
“Good for you,” I said. “Then you’ll have guys coming up to and telling you they had crushes on you back in the day.”
“I doubt it,” Sara chuckled.
“And you know,” I said as I leaned over and lowered my Antalya travesti voice even though no one else was there. “While students are sitting out there fantasizing about you, you’ll be doing the same thing about them.”
“Of course,” I admitted. “The trick is not doing anything about it. No law against thought-crime, except in Orwell’s 1984.”
As we talked, it occurred to me that Sara might be flirting with me, although it was clear that she wasn’t used to doing that because she was doing it awkwardly. That was what was getting my interest, the fact that she wasn’t used to doing it, and as we spoke Sara Plain and Tall became less plain in my eyes.
I screwed up a bit when I asked about how the Senior Prom was and Sara explained that she didn’t go.
“I got asked, but then the guy backed out after he found somebody better looking to go with,” Sara said, the big brown eyes looking sad through her glasses.
“Hard to believe that,” I said. “His loss. Hey, if I knew you were available I would have taken you.”
“Oh gee, can you imagine?” Sara asked.
“I’ve been to proms before,” I said, and it was true. “A girl asked me once a while back and I accepted. Her mother dropped her at the place and picked her up – just so you don’t get the wrong idea.”
I didn’t add that the girl had cerebral palsy and I just felt bad that she wasn’t going to get to go if I didn’t offer. I scored points around the school if nothing else, but she was such an excellent student that it was a pleasure to do it.
“Aren’t you married?” Sara asked innocently, and I showed her my finger with the indentation where the ring used to be.
“Not anymore,” I said, adding, “Guess she found somebody better looking to go with too.”
She had found a better looking partner, which was the reason we split. I didn’t mention the fact that the better looking person was a woman, which made it hurt less for some reason.
“Sorry,” Sara said, and she looked like she meant it too.
“Thanks,” I replied, and I looked at the book Sara had been holding, my eyes lighting up when I saw what it was. “Henry Miller?”
Sara shrugged her shoulders and gave a nervous chuckle when I added her, “Going to need proof of age for that.”
“I’m 18,” Sara said.
“I know,” I said. “Just kidding, but since you have adult tastes, I have some things inside you might be interested in.”
“I should be getting – um – my bike,” Sara said.
“Right. Let’s get this up out of sight so nobody tries to buy it,” I said, grabbing the handlebars and wheeling it along while herding Sara and taking them both up the driveway before the poor girl knew what hit her.
My place is a rather modest dwelling, but the way Sara walked through it with me, you would have thought it was a haunted house. Her eyes – they had gotten my attention right away because they were so big – and the thick glasses so wore, along with her thick eyebrows, really emphasized them as well.
Well Dave Bailey, I thought to myself as I ushered Sara into my den that was more like a library, at least you managed to retire without trying to seduce a student.
“Wow Mr. Bailey,” Sara said as she looked around the room. “You’ve got a million books.”
“Call me Dave,” I said. “School’s out.”
“Okay. Still a lot of books though.”
“Maybe now I’ll get a chance to read them,” I said as I led Sara over to the far bookcase and pulled out an anthology of erotic literature written by females. “This is interesting, reading erotic material written by women. And then there’s this. A little more adult.”
I handed Sara the large book of photographs by Robert Mapplethorpe, some of people like Debbie Harry of Blondie, Patti Smith and other musicians, and many nudes. Looking alongside of Sara, I watched her reactions to the various shots while noticing the perspiration bead up on her forehead.
“That’s interesting,” I said pointing to a photo of a couple of naked guys, and brushed my hand against her forearm, noticing right away that Sara’s skin turned to goosebumps and that the long downy hairs that covered her arms was standing straight up as a result of the slight contact.
“Cold?” I asked innocently, and Sara briskly shook her head no in response.
“Omigod!” Sara mumbled after turning the page and seeing the next photo.
It was a picture of an elegantly dressed black man standing innocently enough, except for the fact that his cock was hanging out of the fly, and as Sara stared at the long ebony long hanging there I asked her if she was okay, and she nodded timidly.
“It’s an interesting photo,” I said, noticing that Sara didn’t turn the page, and since she was holding the book she didn’t see what I was doing. “Do you like it?”
“What do you think of the man?”
“It’s – so big,”
“You like big men?” I asked as I did something that I still can’t believe I did. “Black men?”
“I – dunno,” she said, glancing over to me and swallowing hard.
“If İstanbul travesti you had a camera, you could take a picture like that of me,” I suggested, and when Sara looked at me with a confused look I lowered the book.
“Omigod,” Sara mumbled when she saw me doing a very good impersonation of the man in the photo, and since I was a little aroused I have to admit that what was hanging out of my fly was even more substantial that what the well-hung black dude was exposing.
“Are you okay?” I asked when it looked like Sara was going to faint.
“Kelly,” Sara gasped, her breathing sounded much like a steam powered train.
“Kelly Cross – she’s my friend,” Sara explained as her voice started to sound like her throat was dry. “She said you had a big one.”
“How in the world would she know?” I said. “I’ve never so much as…”
“I know. Everybody said that you weren’t one of the teachers that did their kids, like Mr. Farnsworth does. Kelly said she saw the bulge in your pants one day. She was in your fourth period class back then and we used to talk about you lots.”
“I remember her,” I said, and it was no surprise that I probably had a bulge in the pants when I remembered that busty girl, but I took the book from Sara and put it aside. “But it’s you I want.”
“It’s okay,” I said as I tried to bring Sara’s hand over to grab my cock.
“I’m scared,” Sara said in a voice that shivered while she initially resisted my efforts to have her touch me.
“Don’t be scared,” I said. “I won’t hurt you. Are you a virgin?”
“Do you want to leave?” I asked.
“I – I don’t know,” Sara said.
“You can if you want,” I assured her as I felt Sara stop resisting me, and when I put her trembling hand on my cock she wrapped her fingers around it. “That’s it Sara. See? Nothing to be afraid of.”
We were both looking down at Sara’s pale white hand holding my beige cock, with the garnet in her school ring shining brightly, and while she held it my cock pulsed and throbbed in her grasp as it got hard.
“I want you so bad,” I said as I moved around to face her, and didn’t have to bend down very far to kiss her.
Sara didn’t resist but was either not a very good kisser or taken aback at what I was doing, but as we kept kissing it got a little smoother. And what was I doing, pretty much attacking a girl in my library? A girl that seemed terrified to be holding my cock in her fist, judging by the way her eyes were wide open when I took a peek while we kissed.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, I discovered as my hands rubbed her back, and I was happy to learn that I wasn’t because she didn’t need one, as the breasts that were pressed against my chest proved, While they didn’t feel big, they were there.
We kept kissing there in the library while I tried to figure out a way to gracefully get us out of the room and down a few steps to my bedroom without breaking the mood. I managed this by leading the still uncertain Sara in that direction while moving my hands under her t-shirt and rubbing her back from behind.
Sara’s skin was moist, either because she was nervous or from biking earlier, allowing my hands to glide easily up and down her back, and by the time we got to the doorway of my bedroom my hands were on her ribcage and moving up.
“It’s okay,” I said when Sara flinched and tensed while my hands explored, her glasses slightly askew when I took my mouth off hers for a second.
“Wasn’t expecting this,” Sara said, her face flushed as my hands refused to be discouraged by what my fingers had found after traveling up her sides, but she relaxed when she sensed that I was not put off by the presence of a little hair under her arms, likely the result of not shaving for a few days or so, and let me stroke the stubbly hollows with my thumbs.
“It’s okay,” I repeated while we kept inching our way to my desired destination. “I didn’t make my bed either.”
“Just as well,” Sara said with a giggle as the backs of her legs reached the bed, and now relaxed knowing that I was still very much interested, allowed me pull the t-shirt off of her body before I eased her down onto the bedding.
Nice, apple-sized breasts with plump crimson nipples, I noted as Sara looked up at me from the bed, and as I slipped her shorts and panties down I was also pleased to see a thick triangle of black hair between her legs. Hair that was as soft as it looked, my cheeks discovered as I went to my knees on the floor with Sara’s legs over my shoulders.
Wet too, even before my mouth reached the opening of her furry grotto, and as I tongued her I tried to get my pants off. My dick was still sticking out through my fly, and I had to work around that as I struggled with my pants. Sara’s hands were in my thinning hair, pushing my face into her pussy and squirming while whimpering.
Either Sara was incredibly horny to begin with, or my pussy eating skills were better than I figured, but either way Sara came hard and fast, squealing while İzmir travesti kicking her long legs around wildly, forcing me to hold her hips down until she stopped convulsing.
Now I was scrambling to get my clothes off while Sara was sprawled there on the bed looking dazed and confused, and while I didn’t strip very gracefully I managed to get everything off but my socks.
I moved between those skinny thighs and rubbed the head of my cock along the opening of her sex, making Sara moan and making my cock drool. The sight of my milky pre-cum starkly contrasting with her dark pubes sent a shiver down my spine as I pushed the fat knob into Sara.
Sara was so tight that it was like squeezing it into a keyhole, but I kept working it in while Sara’s eyes rolled back in her head and she clutched at the sheets, even letting out an “Oh shit” as my tool likely entered deep uncharted territory.
“That’s so good,” I moaned as I began to work in and out the half of my cock that she had managed to take in, with each strokes managing to impale her a little more.
“So big,” Sara grunted. “Hurts – hurts good.”
“Doing fine,” I said as I leaned down and nibbled on her nipples, her breasts heaving wildly.
The thought that this girl had been fantasizing about me back in the day, along with that friend of hers, only served to make the even more erotic for me. The idea that Sara and her friend Kelly had spent time talking about the bulge in my trousers made me wonder if they were in bed together while they talked about my anatomy.
Looking down at the lanky teen and picturing that busty friend of her grinding those jugs into Sara’s little breasts made me start to lose control, so I looked up toward the headboard so I didn’t pop my load so fast.
Sara was no longer complaining about what was inside her as her pussy relaxed, allowing me to moved deeper and faster, and although she couldn’t take it all, wincing when I hit the back wall once, she was taking a whole lot of it and now she was coming again.
“AWWW!” Sara screamed, arching her back as I drove us both toward the headboard.
Sara’s pussy squeezed my cock tightly as she came, and then I was rolling us over on our sides. This wasn’t me showing off my mastery of positions but more a case of my back and knees reminding me that I wasn’t 18 like my lover was.
Sliding into Sara’s moist grotto from a different angle seemed to delight not only me but Sara as well, and as I took slow and deep strokes into her I contorted her long and lanky body so I could nibble on her titties, made almost non-existent in this position.
I even took advantage of her awkward position to nibble under her arms, kissing the furry hollow and reveling in the way Sara’s body shuddered at the unexpected affection, and when my aching parts had recovered I got her on all fours and mounted her from behind.
As I squeezed her hips her cheeks parted, affording me a view of her pink puckered ring. I wondered whether she had ever taken a man into that tiny hairless orifice and tried to imagine trying to squeeze my member into her ass.
Too much fantasizing was having an effect on me so I leaned over and embraced the skinny torso while thrusting hard, and while it would have been nice to have been able to make Sara cum again, it was clear I wasn’t going to last any longer.
I don’t know whether Sara felt what seemed like a mother-lode of cum when it blasted into her, but she did react as my cock twitched with each volley until I was spent.
Droplets of my sweat was all over Sara’s pale while back as I straightened up. I stayed inside of my young lover as I went limp, allowing my cock to slither out on its own before we went down to the bedding together.
“Omigod that was so awesome,” Sara said as she rolled around to face me. “When I tell Kelly she’ll be so jealous.”
“You’re going to tell her?” I said.
“Uh – you want me to lie and say no?” Sara said shyly, biting her lower lip while reaching back and retrieving her glasses, which had been lost in the heat of the moment, and I decided that they made her look sexier for some reason.
“Guess not. Just don’t tell her that it was bad,” I said.
“Omigod no, you were awesome!”
“You and Kelly – you’re still friends?” I asked, and after she nodded I added, “Long time to be friends. Are you uh – more than friends?”
“I see,” I said after watching Sara’s face flush.
“I didn’t say anything,” Sara said as she buried her face in my deck.
“Not with words,” I mentioned, and then I heard Sara giggle.
“Too bad she wasn’t here now,” I said, kidding when I added, “The three of us together sounds like fun.”
“Really?” Sara said as her face popped us. “You would do both of us?”
“I was only kidding,” I said with a laugh. “It was all I could do to keep up with you. The two of you together? That would be the death of me. Just thinking about it is doing a number on my heart rhythm. I’m an old man.”
“Couldn’t prove it by me,” Sara said. “Wish you weren’t kidding though.”
“Is that something you two do?” I asked. “Both of you with one guy?”
“No, we never have actually done it,” Sara admitted. “Talked about it a lot. That would be an awesome birthday present for Kelly though. She turns 18 next Wednesday.”
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