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In the NeighborhoodBack in the late ’80s I was living and working in a small town outside Portland, Oregon. The neighborhood I lived in was mostly smaller type houses built around World War I. The one I rented was maybe just a bit run=down, but many had been fixed up pretty nice, and most had mature trees and plenty of landscape shrubbery. It was a nice shady place to live. The residents were mostly fairly young in age, with a very few retired couples, with more young c***dless couples. There was a lot of partying in that neighborhood at that time.One quiet summer Saturday morning, I had gone out before sunrise for a long hike in the countryside. I was getting back about eleven, cutting through the alleys and thinking about lunch. I was just about a block and a half from my house when I heard what sounded like a struggle and muffled cries for help coming from a house I was passing. Stopping, I listened, and I really did hear a woman calling for help. I went up to the back door and sure enough, I could hear her calling “Help!” and “Goddamnit, get me out of here!”.Entering a kitchen through an unlocked screen-door, I saw what was causing the disturbance. Protruding from the cabinet under the sink, was a woman’s naked ass. “Bob? Is that you, Bob?” she asked. “Get me the Hell out of here!” She was yelling, but the cabinet and its canlı bahis contents tended to muffle the sound. I recognized the voice (and the tone, and the cuss-words)even if I didn’t recognize the bare ass. I realized that I was looking at the backside of Wanda J., a fortyish friend-of-a-friend kind of acquaintance. I hadn’t ever really warmed up to Wanda, who struck me as pretty much a nasty bitch, but I saw her around often enough, socially. She was brown-haired and a bit chunky, not obese, or anything, mind you, but definitely well padded. I was fascinated to see her plump ass, with her meaty pussy peeking out between her thighs.”Get me out, dammit!” she yelled. I bent down and looked into the cabinet over her back. She was completely naked and had somehow gotten her shoulders in past the water and drain pipes on the one side, and the wooden shelf support an the other. Her head seemed to be in among a bunch of dish towels, and what with the plumbing and framing, could not turn to see behind or to the side.”God damn it Bob, DO something!” My name is not Bob, and neither was that of her husband, whose name was Ed. I was coming to realize the possibilities of the situation, and found I couldn’t resist. I reached down and began stroking her fat labia. Her pussy and ass were hairless except for just a bit of short brown stubble. bahis siteleri She was nice and clean, evidently just out of the shower, and smelled of vanilla body wash. I was aroused.”All right” she growled, “Have your fun, you fucking pervert”.I got down on my hands and knees and began licking her pussy and asshole. She wasn’t cussing now, but began making small moans. Her pussy became increasingly wet, and her moans louder as I licked. After a while, I dropped my pants and knelt down between her spread legs. My cock was rock hard, and I plunged the entire length of my shaft into her hot, moist vagina with one quick, powerful thrust.”Jesus Christ! You’re not Bob!” she exclaimed in surprise as I withdrew my cock and then gave her another quick, full-length stroke, and then another. “Who are you? Goddamnit, who are you?” she yelled. I did not answer, but began pumping as hard and fast as I could without banging my head or shoulders against the cabinet. After I’d been at it a while, she quit yelling and began making incoherent moaning sounds, and I knew she was going to cum. Pumping away, I pushed my left thumb into her tawny-pink butthole, and felt her body start to convulse as she began to cum. She let out a scream only slightly muffled by the dish towels, and I began convulsing with my own orgasm. What felt like gallons güvenilir bahis of jizz flowed through my cock into her.We both lay there spent, she on her hands and knees, still stuck under the sink, and me, leaning on the cabinet with my increasingly limp cock still inside her. As I caught my breath, I realized that she’d evidently been expecting Bob, whoever he was, and that maybe I should be gone when he got there. I got up, pulled my pants up, gave her a smack on that nice round ass, and went out the door, headed for home. Before I got home, though, I had second thoughts. Maybe Bob wouldn’t show up any time soon. Heading to a nearby convenience store, I called the fire department, and reported a fire at Wanda’s house. Sure enough, the fire truck arrived six or seven minutes later. A few days later, a friend asked, “Hear about Wanda J.? She got her head stuck under the kitchen sink, and the fire department had to get her out. She was completely bare-assed naked when they got there. Bet that was a sight.” Yeah, I thought to myself, it sure was.About a year later I ran into Wanda at a party across town. She was fairly liquored up when we met, but still going strong at midnight. Ed had evidently taken off somewhere with somebody or other, and Wanda asked me to give her a ride home. Somehow we ended up at my house and in my bed. We had some of the wildest sex I’ve ever had, in every position I knew or had ever heard about. We were laying there weak but satisfied at 4:30 am when she asked “Was that as much fun as fucking me under the sink?”
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