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*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
Venice Apartments had a sign out front, with the name ‘Venice Apartments’ in black against a background of the Italian flag of green, white, and red. Encircling the name was the silhouette of a gondola and gondolier.
The complex was comprised of four separate buildings arranged in a square. Each building faced inward, faced the pool and small courtyard. The first building, the northeast building was three floors, with five apartments on each floor. Apartments 101, 105, 201, 205, 301 and 305 were two bedroom units. The three units in between each two bedroom unit were one bedroom units. The southeastern building had apartments 106 and 107 on the ground floor, each a two bedroom unit. The second and third floors had four single room efficiencies on each. The southwestern building was a duplicate of the northeastern building, each floor with a two bedroom unit on the corners, separated by three one bedroom units. And the northwestern building was a duplicate of the southeastern building, a ground floor of two units, each with two bedrooms, then eight one room efficiencies atop. Behind the northwestern building was a large laundry room and an exercise room.
Across the parking lot in front of the northeastern building was the rental office. And on top of the rental office was the apartment building’s clubhouse. Each tenant had the right to reserve the clubhouse for parties, but they must notify the apartment manager of the desired time that they planned to use the clubhouse.
Often, the manager, a heavy-set African-American woman found an excuse to invite herself to whatever function was being held in the clubhouse. More than one tenant soon discovered that it would be wise to hide the good liquor and food until the manager stumbled out of the clubhouse, drunk and happy.
Maureen Eastman stepped out of apartment 103, checked that she had her key and closed the door. She sauntered to the small gate that stood very nearly directly in front of her apartment door and punched her code into the keypad. With a soft ‘ding’ the gate unlocked and she pushed it inward.
There were two young men already in the pool, obviously friends. The two splashed about, swam, traded insults with one another, then swam some more.
Both young men looked over when they heard the gate chime. Then they looked at each other and one of them actually giggled.
Maureen paid them no attention as she put towel and cloth bag onto a chaise lounge. She then stepped to the deep edge of the pool and dove in.
Vigorously, she swam ten laps of the pool’s length. Then she swam five laps at a slower pace. Her heart hammered in her chest as she then did a five lap repetition of a backstroke.
The fifty three year old woman knew she was large. She had passed ‘big boned’ nearly fifty pounds earlier, now tilting the scales at two fourteen. When she had weighed one eighty nine, much of that weight had been in her breasts and buttocks and heavy thighs. But after her husband had unceremoniously dumped her for his twenty nine year old secretary, Maureen had packed on another twenty five pounds of self-pity. That self-pity weight had settled in her belly and her hips.
Maureen was sure she would pass out, possibly even have a heart attack, but kept pushing herself to complete one last set of breast strokes. Then, flinging her blonde hair back, she climbed out of the pool. Gasping for breath, she flopped onto the chaise lounge and lay, facing the afternoon sun. The pool’s water had been cool, almost cold when she’d dove in. Now, afternoon sun beating down on her, she felt quite warm.
She now heard the two young men whispering and giggling to one another. Still, she paid them no mind. She’d not worn her red bikini to get their attention. She’d not pushed herself to swim that vigorously to earn their praise.
She would be going to the complex’s exercise room after a few moments, not to garner their praise, but to try to shed these unwanted pounds. She would get on the slightly broken stationary bike and put in ten miles to firm up. She would then use the ten pound dumbbells to try to firm up her triceps, to rid her arms of the flab she could feel forming at the backs of her arms.
Nearly dry, Maureen groaned slightly and sat up. She then rummaged in her bag and pulled out a pair of shorts. She clearly heard the dark haired boy say the word ‘bikini’ and heard the blond headed boy giggle again.
“Yeah, I was pretty surprised they had a bikini in my size too,” Maureen said, now regarding both young men as they dog-paddled in the middle of the pool.
“I uh…” the dark haired boy said, clearly embarrassed.
“Just thank God it’s not a thong, huh?” Maureen smirked at the young man’s discomfort.
“I uh, sorry, ma’am,” the blond haired boy said, face flushed.
“Haven’t seen y’all antalya escort around before; what apartment do you live in?” Maureen asked, pulling the shorts up her flabby legs.
“I uh, we’re in two oh nine,” the blond boy said, pointing toward the second floor efficiencies.
“Two of y’all? In one of those efficiencies?” Maureen asked, now wearing a knowing smirk.
She again checked that she still had her apartment key, then strolled out of the gated courtyard. From the pool, she went into the exercise room.
Forty minutes later, Maureen made her way to her apartment. Her blonde and silver hair was wet with sweat and her thighs and underarms felt chafed from rubbing together. The two young men were now out of the pool, drying themselves off.
“Hey, uh, lady,” the blond boy called out as Maureen was unlocking her door.
“Yes?” Maureen gasped as both young men exited the pool area.
“Listen, I, we’re sorry. That was very rude and insensitive of us, talking about you like that,” the blond boy said.
“Yeah,” his friend agreed as they now stood in front of her.
The blond was around five feet, seven or eight inches and had a slim build. He wore a pair of black swim trunks that showed off his body very well. His face was a round face, with deep brown eyes, a slightly large nose and slightly crooked smile.
His friend had dark brown hair, worn long, even as it was noticeably beginning to recede. He had a chubby body and stood a few inches shorter than his friend.
“Apology accepted,” Maureen said graciously.
“I, I’m Ryan Welton,” the blond said, holding out his hand.
“Maureen Eastman,” Maureen said, giving the young man a firm handshake.
“Tommy,” the dark haired boy said, giving no last name.
Nor did he extend his hand. Ryan noticed this and glared at his friend.
“Well, Ryan, Tommy, have a good evening,” Maureen said and let herself into her cool, dark living room.
She dropped her bag next to her leather recliner, made sure her apartment door was securely locked, then staggered to her bedroom.
Entering her dark bedroom, Maureen wobbled to the bathroom. Directly in front of her were the closets, and the doors of the closets were made of mirrored plexi-glass. Even in the dim lighting, Maureen could not help but wince at the sight of her bloated, flabby body.
“Uh huh, but the girls are still looking good, huh?” Maureen asked herself, cupping and lifting the bikini covered breasts.
She did have a pretty face. Everyone had always said she had a pretty face. But years of over-indulging her passion for rich food had taken its toll on her body. She turned from her closet mirror.
Inside of her bathroom, Maureen closed and locked the bathroom door. It was an old habit from her years of marriage. Anthony Eastman had no sense of privacy, of boundaries. He saw nothing wrong with barging in while Maureen was using the facilities, even when there were two other bathrooms in the house.
Securely inside the locked bathroom, Maureen undid the back strap for her bikini and let the top flutter to her midsection before catching it. The small mirror over the sink showed Maureen that the girls were indeed looking good. Each was a large pale white globe capped with a dark pink areolae roughly the size of a silver dollar. The nipple was a fat thimble sized point.
Wiggling out of shorts and bikini bottom, Maureen stepped into the shower and turned it to a scalding temperature. The apartment manager’s boyfriend, a short Latin man had claimed that the twenty five gallon hot water heater was turned up to full capacity. Maureen had smirked, staring intently at his bland face. But he stuck to his claim; the hot water heater was at its hottest setting. A crescent wrench and a flat head screwdriver had pushed the small unit beyond slightly above lukewarm to a more suitable setting.
Maureen lathered her long hair, then scrubbed her chubby body. Passing the washrag over her hairless mound, she did pause long enough to slip a few fingers inside of her pussy.
Twenty five gallons of water was used up in short time and Maureen determined to finish her masturbation in her bed, rather than in the shower.
She did towel herself dry, did apply scented lotion to her skin before unlocking her bathroom door. Then she flopped down on her bed and spread her thighs apart.
One hand pinched and twisted her nipples tugging, stretching her breasts away from her ribcage. The other hand traced up and down her wet slit. She used thumb and middle finger to pinch her fleshy inner lips together, trapping her index finger inside of her. She continued to trace up and down her slick pussy, pulling the lips out, away from her mound.
“Ugh!” Maureen grunted.
She released her thumb/middle finger grip on her lips and plunged three fingers inside of her pussy. Then she pinched her fat clitoris.
She continued alternating between plunging her fingers inside of herself and pinching her clitoris.
“Ugh, ah,” Maureen let out a sigh as she enjoyed an orgasm.
Over serik escort the next few days, Maureen went about her day as a teller at First National Bank in DeGarde, Louisiana. On Tuesday night, she attended a self-help group for newly divorced people, or people currently going through the unfortunate, heartless process of a divorce. The old woman that facilitated the meetings was clearly biased; she allowed most of the women to go on and on, spewing rambling diatribes against their ex-husbands or soon to be ex-husbands. But the men, it seemed, were given very little time to vent, and were often reminded that, since their ex-wives were not present to defend themselves, it wasn’t right to bash them to the group.
“Maureen? We’ve not heard from you tonight,” Helen Nitchner said after cutting a man’s complaints off.
“Know what? I’m sitting here wondering what I’m whining about. Anthony don’t want me then good. He don’t want me? Maybe someone else will,” Maureen said, getting to her feet. “He don’t want me, and I don’t want him. I’m done. I am just done whining about it.”
“Maureen, we still have thirty, no, twenty five minutes left,” Helen called out.
“And that’s twenty five minutes I’m going need to live my life,” Maureen called back as she left the room.
Saturday, Maureen again stepped out, dressed in her bikini. Ryan and Tommy were again in the pool and both greeted her as she entered the pool area.
Again, Maureen swam vigorously. Then, instead of climbing out, she swam to where the two young men were bobbing up and down.
“So, how have you been? What y’all been up to?” she asked.
“Work,” Tommy said. “You?”
“He works at Tommy’s Po-boys,” Ryan said. “Right now, I’m working at the Joy four movie theater, concession stand.”
“How old are y’all?” Maureen asked.
“Eighteen,” both young men said.
“First time out on your own?” Maureen asked.
“Uh huh,” Tommy said.
“Yes ma’am, Ryan agreed. “I was living in Oakleaf, Texas, with my mom. But I, me and my brothers, we used visit my dad, he lived here in DeGarde.”
“I lived right next door to where his dad used live,” Tommy supplied.
“Well, I’m getting out; I’m getting water-logged,” Maureen smiled.
“You, uh, you going work out?” Ryan asked.
“Uh huh; told Keisha bike’s about had it. Hope she’s got it fixed,” Maureen said, paddling to the ladder.
Maureen was surprised but said nothing as both young men also got out of the pool. They toweled off, then put on tee shirts over their wet swim trunks.
“We’ll go with you,” Ryan said.
“We uh, we’ve been using the weights,” Tommy said, actually flexing his non-existent biceps.
Maureen fought down the giggle. She nodded and slipped on a pair of nylon shorts, then proceeded them to the exercise room.
After thirty minutes, the three were bushed. Maureen had to agree; she’d worked out just a little harder because she’d had an audience. Her legs and arms actually felt wobbly as she went to her apartment.
“Well, uh, see you later,” Ryan said as the two young men reached the stairwell.
“Uh huh, Maureen agreed.
Then, as she unlocked her door, she called out, “Hey! I uh, y’all want come in? Got a couple of beers here.”
“Yeah!” both young men agreed enthusiastically.
“Oh, shit, that’s right,” Maureen thought to herself as they approached. “Drinking age’s twenty one now.”
Inside of her apartment, Maureen waved the boys over to her couch. Ryan actually folded up his towel and put it on the cushion before sitting. Tommy had simply plopped down, but got up and did the same with his own towel.
“Hope Bud’s okay with y’all,” Maureen said, washing the tops of the cans in the small metal sink.
“Yes ma’am,” Ryan said.
“They make that St. Elizabeth’s here, in Kimble,” Tommy offered.
“Uh huh, but my husband drank Bud,” Maureen said, bringing two cans into the living room. “So, just grabbed it out of habit.”
“You uh, your husband, he uh, he lives here with you?” Ryan asked.
“Nope,” Maureen said.
She sat down in the leather recliner and watched the two young men drink their beers. Tommy drank his quickly. Ryan took a sip, savored the taste, then took another sip.
“No, Mr. Eastman doesn’t live here with me,” Maureen said.
She got to her feet and indicated her portly physique. Both young men looked at her, dressed in her outfit of red bikini top and gray-black nylon shorts. She swiveled around, showing them her back and substantial buttocks.
“Said was tired of looking at my fat ass,” Maureen said tersely. “Found himself some skinny little bitch to shack up with.”
“Oh,” Ryan said and took another sip of beer.
“Sucks,” Tommy said, putting his empty can of beer on her coffee table.
“There anything wrong with girl’s got them a little meat on the bones?” Maureen asked harshly, sitting down again.
“I uh, no, no ma’am. That uh, that Marilyn Monroe was kind of solid there. Oh! Oh, and that Jayne Mansfield wasn’t skin and bones side escort either,” Ryan said.
“And they was both HOT,” Tommy said.
“Uh huh, fifty, sixty years ago,” Maureen smiled. “I’m talking about today, right now.”
She got to her feet again. Tommy looked pointedly at his can of beer and at the kitchen. Ryan finished his beer.
“Where you want us put the empties?” Ryan asked.
“I mean, there anything wrong with the way I look?” Maureen asked, letting her large bikini top flutter to the beige carpet.
“Man!” Tommy said, seeing Maureen’s large breasts and hard nipples.
“Huh!” Ryan exclaimed, looking at Maureen’s large breasts and hard nipples.
“Huh? There anything wrong with the way I look?” Maureen demanded, shimmying out of nylon shorts and bikini bottom.
“No. Ma’am. Nothing,” Ryan said, staring at Maureen’s hairless pubic mound.
“Huh? I might have a few extra pounds, but I still look good, huh?” Maureen demanded, turning and showing them her large buttocks again.
“Damn,” Tommy said.
Ma’am, I think you look just right,” Ryan said.
“Yeah?” Maureen said, facing them. “Prove it.”
“Huh?” Ryan asked.
“Prove it. Show me your dicks. Show me I make you hard,” Maureen challenged.
Ryan stood and dropped his skimpy swim suit to the floor. His seven and a half inches stood out hard and proud. His foreskin was beginning to peel back from the head of his hard, twitching cock.
Tommy stood and dropped his swim trunks to the floor. His four inches of circumcised cock stuck out, drooping slightly. He smugly preened, thrusting his hips forward.
Maureen looked at the two cocks and felt her pussy moisten tremendously. Right now, she felt something she’d not felt in several years. She felt sexy. She felt wanton. And, she felt that she was in control.
“All right?” Ryan asked.
“You, in my pussy,” Maureen ordered. “And you, in my mouth.”
She got down on her hands and knees in her living room. The cheap beige carpet dug roughly into her knees.
Ryan stepped around and approached Maureen’s ample backside, hard cock bobbing and twitching.
Tommy saw his friend’s hard cock for the first time and his erection wilted. For years, he had always believed himself to be well-endowed, even when comparing himself to Internet pornography. After all, those images were photo shopped, they were altered.
But seeing a real cock, one that had not been digitally touched up, Tommy saw that he was not overly endowed. He was not superior to his friend. He was not the Alpha male in their apartment.
“Miss Maureen, you sure about this?” Ryan asked.
“Oh yes,” Maureen hissed.
Ryan knelt down behind the woman. He gripped his hard cock in his hand and rubbed it up and down her puffy pussy lips. They both grunted when he pushed the head of his cock into her pussy.
“You, come on, your legs broke?” Maureen demanded of Tommy.
Tommy waddled over, his shriveled cock beginning to revive weakly.
“Mm, damn, yes,” Maureen grunted as Ryan continued to push in, using short jabs.
She took Tommy’s cock into her meaty hand and stroked it. Then she rose up slightly and wrapped her lips around Tommy’s cock.
Maureen could feel Ryan’s cock pushing in, could feel the thick foreskin rasping, rubbing along her vaginal walls. He was at least two inches longer than her husband’s cock, and easily twice as thick as Anthony’s prick.
The prick in her mouth, it was almost a shame to call it a prick. But, slowly, it was beginning to stiffen in her mouth. She could taste the chlorine of the pool, could taste the sweat as she sucked on Tommy’s cock. She could also taste his excitement oozing, dribbling from his cock.
“Where, where you want me, ugh, where you want me come?” Ryan panted as he now used long strokes to hammer Maureen’s pussy.
Maureen thrust back to meet his forward strokes. Her orgasm was building, building nicely as the sweet young man fucked her.
“Mm, oh Jesus,” Maureen cried out as Tommy’s cock began to pump into her throat.
Her orgasm was a powerful one. She could feel the pleasure pumping, pulsing inside of her guts. And the young man kept hammering her with long, forceful strokes.
“Shit! Come in me, come in my pussy,” Maureen screamed out.
She released Tommy’s cock and put her head down. She pushed back, hard and fast against the young man’s fast thrusts.
“Yes!” Maureen cried out again in orgasm.
“Ugh, oh God,” Ryan cried out and pumped and pumped his semen into the hot, tight pussy.
Neither Ryan nor Maureen noticed Tommy dressing in his swim trunks and flip flops. Neither Maureen nor Ryan noticed Tommy stomping toward the door.
They did notice when he slammed the door shut.
“Shit! What’s his problem?” Maureen asked. “I mean, Jesus! Just got a blow job, right?”
“I. Don’t. Know, oh God, yes,” Ryan gasped out as the last few spurts of his ejaculation were nearly painful.
Ryan fell backward, pulling his cock from Maureen’s pussy. She fell slightly forward, resting on her forearms, ass still high in the air.
A dribble of Ryan’s silvery white semen slowly trickled out of Maureen’s gaping pussy. Watching the vulgar sight, a raw, puffy pussy, a line of sperm drooling out had Ryan’s cock jerking again to full hardness.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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