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Scheming Switzer!

12

Maria was an "older woman" (30's) I worked with. She was from Switzerland, here in the states with her husband. I was a teenager (I think I'd turned 19 - maybe not) working in a bookstore, and she was a part timer there, mostly working for fun, to meet Americans (and practice her American English) and because she loved books. Plus her language skills made her an asset to the shop, which did a fair amount of foreign language business. We'd sit together in a cramped little space, answering the phones, working the register, helping customers find things, etc.

She about made me crazy with her petite, slightly tanned body, her smile, her accent (mostly German), her flirty ways and her obvious enjoyment of my youthful infatuation. Basically, she was a subtle and very accomplished tease and I was loving it. She also, eventually, learned that I had a girlfriend my own age, and that I also "dated" other women, including a couple who were older than me. So it's not like I was off limits to her, but she was married and I assumed that meant that she was off limits to me. I knew it was possible, having been with a couple of married women, but even in the early 70's, it wasn't safe to assume a married woman was available, even if she was flirting a lot. And although she flirted, she was also clearly very into her husband, whom I'd met a few times when he'd been by the store to visit. Nice guy - sharp dresser, clean cut, but very hip, sort of slightly built guy, compared to my bearded, pony-tailed, muscly biker-ish look.

She and I often got lunch together, or had coffee before work, and really enjoyed each other's company. She especially liked trying to get me to tell her what I'd been up to over the weekend, or the previous night, and she was amused that I was reticent sometimes, but told her just enough to keep her asking and wondering. I'd realized that two could play the teasing game. So although we talked about everything from books and film and politics, etc. - we also often talked about sex. She found it really interesting that I'd done some mild bondage, that I'd had threesomes with women, that I'd had sex at parties with others watching and while watching them do - "same room sex" as the swinger community calls it now. She was amazed at the amount and kind of experience I'd had before I'd even turned 20.

She, on the other hand, had relatively little experience. Some boyfriends and lots of making out, mostly after carefully chaperoned dances at school. Her parents were very attentive - almost smothering, but not quite - and they were among the few Swiss who actually attended church regularly, so Maria had spent a lot of her youth flirting with boys at church functions, apparently honing her skills, because she was really, really good at it and had my late-adolescent genitals in an uproar pretty much whenever she was within sight. Hell, even the smell of her on the other side of a rack of books at the store could make me pop a boner. She loved it and sometime I wouldn't even know she'd been looking, and she'd go "tut, tut ... such a naughty, naughty boy ..." as she was walking by, knowing I'd been looking down her sundress trying to see her little boobs, or up her skirt, seeing her smooth thighs and hoping for a glimpse of her panties.

She was something.

She and her husband were jazz fans - one of the reasons they were really enjoying being in the states - and one day at lunch she told me she was sort of pissed off because they had tickets to see Herbie Hancock in a relatively small venue and they'd been really excited about if for a long time, but her husband had to work.

She paused and then looked up at me and said "wanna be my date?" She'd started learning standard American "mispronunciations" - such as "wanna" instead of "want to" and the colloquial dropping of "do you." She was always so pleased with herself when she used idiomatic English and it just made her more irresistible.

I wasn't a jazz fan back then, and she knew it, but I immediately said yes.

Her eyes lit up, but she was clearly nervous about this, and that was sort of exciting to me. She was always so on top of it all, that it was fun to see her trying to hide her nervousness. But for the next couple days, as our "date" grew closer, I wondered what had her so nervous. She almost seemed sort of pissed off with me, and I even asked her if she was, and she said "no, don't be silly, why would I be?" But she remained very prickly.

When I arrived to pick her up on my bike, she just looked at me. "How am I supposed to ride on your motorcycle with this little skirt?"

I answered "you know I ride a bike and don't have a car, so it's not my problem, is it?"

She wanted to ride side-saddle, but I nixed that. Instead, I said "hold still a sec," and too hold her of slim hips and began to tug her skirt around her body, so that the slit that was on the side came around to the front. The whole time she was sort of playfully slapping at me, but my leather jacket made it laughably ineffective. We both were laughing while she was saying "you're completely crazy ... someone's going to see you doing this ... etc."

It relieved some tension. When I stepped back to see the result, she pointedly looked at the bulge in my jeans and gave the familiar "naughty boy," scolding, shaking her head, but smiling. There was still tension, but it had changed. It was excitement, plain and simple.

I had her get on before me just to see if moving the slit around to the front would let her ride more modestly. It would have been more effective, I was realizing, to put the slit to the rear, and let her sit on the opening, but this was pretty great - I got a full-on view of her thighs all the way up, and the triangle of her white panties was fully exposed as she struggled to get herself arranged. "This is TERRIBLE," she cried, in mock alarm. "I'm completely exposed like this! You're a bad, bad boy - don't think I don't know why you did this!"

I was laughing - we both were - as she tried in vain to cover herself, her knees spread wide and her entire pelvis exposed. I could see the lips of her pussy pressed to the crotch of panties and she knew it." I explained that when I was in front of her, she'd be up against me, and no one could see. It calmed her down, but I was actually thinking "it's going to be awesome when she has to get off the bike!"

So now she got off so that I could get on. Again, her finely muscled legs were a vision as she clambered off, huffing and puffing, then I got on and she climbed on again and we were off. She had to hold the flaps of her dress with one hand and put her other around my torso to hold on.

It was a short ride, and there was more laughter as she struggled to dismount. I stood by with my arms folded and watched, laughing with her and enjoying how prettily she blushed as she exposed herself.

The music was more enjoyable than I would have thought, not being a jazz fan and not really knowing much about jazz. There was no denying the talent and the complexity of what the band was doing and I got into it. And it may have helped that I was sitting at a tiny table with a little candle glowing on it, throwing light on our drinks and on her. She was absolutely gorgeous, moving softly to the music, often with her eyes closed. We were seated on a banquette very near the stage, thigh to thigh, the place being packed and I could smell her soap or shampoo or something, but mostly I could smell HER - her sweetness. Not body odor, really, but something elusive that I knew like I knew my own name.

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven when she sort of absently began to run the fingers of her near hand over the hair on my arm, her eyes still on the musicians. My heart was pounding when I leaned in and said to her as softly as I could and still be heard, my lips very close to her ear and my nostrils full of the smell of her hair, "thank you for this."

She turned and seemed almost startled to see me there. Our faces were very close to each other and without really thinking I softly pressed my lips to hers. We held the kiss for just a moment, but then she turned a little toward me and kissed me, her left hand still on my arm, and her other hand, her right, falling to my thigh. Our kiss intensified but stopped short of being an inappropriate public snog in a pretty classy jazz club.

When the kiss broke, we were both smiling - with pleasure, with shock - with happiness. She turned back to the music, but was now, turned more with her back to me, sort of settled in, with my arm around her, holding my hand in both of hers.

Oh, man.

I really don't remember the rest of the time in the club very well, except to say that her usually reserved, quiet, teasing way - often dodging behind propriety and a sort of "European girls' school" primness - was now joined to a new physicality. I realized she'd always been as fond of me as I was of her, but now her fondness was expressed, by stroking my hand and my arm, my thigh and turning to smile into my eyes from just inches away when something especially amazing arose in the music. She leaned her head back against me as she listened. We were so happy - so comfortable with each other. And I was so fucking hard in my jeans I thought I'd come every time she adjusted herself. At one point she carefully reached back with the hand that was against the back of the banquette and found my hard on. Giving it a squeeze, she turned and although I couldn't exactly hear her, she gave me the usual scolding for being a "very naughty boy."

As I recall we didn't speak as we left the club and this time she got onto the bike more easily and when I turned to her, we kissed again. As we pulled away, her hands went inside my jacket and occasionally strayed down toward my belt buckle - always the little tease!

She asked me in, and I accepted, assuming that this late, her husband would be there, perhaps asleep. Once we were inside, she turned and kissed me again. I whispered "your husband ..." but she cut me off with fingertips at my lips.

"His office sent him to Chicago - we have all night," she said and paused then added, "that is, if we want it."

I just pulled her tight against me and she smiled as my hand slid down to her ass and my tongue parted her lips.

I'll try to cut to the chase here. We slept together that night and the sex was spectacular for us both. In the morning, after one more romp in the sheets, we showered and fucked again there - anal that time, at her suggestion. She was an enthusiastic fuck and her enjoyment made up for her relative lack of experience a hundred fold. She loved it all and what she and her husband hadn't tried she especially enjoyed.

I had to work that day, so I did, and then we went out to dinner, then back to her place, where we were all over each other again. If anything, it was even better than the previous night, as I recall. At one point, late in the night, we were snacking in her kitchen and she asked me about bondage. As she asked, she pulled the sash off the little wrap she was wearing. "What, you want me to tie you up?" I said, hopefully.

"Maybe ..." she said, and turned slowly and headed back up to the bedroom, her thoughts a million miles away, her little round ass rolling gently as she went. I finished the last of my sandwich quickly, drank some water and followed her up.

She was lying on the bed, sort of experimenting with knots and when I came in she sat up and patted the bed beside her.

"If you were going to tie me up, how would you do it with this?"

That was easy: I'd tie her hands together - behind her back, or in front of her, or possibly she'd find herself tethered to the rails of her headboard.

"Hmmm ... it all sounds exciting ... sort of ... I think I'd like to try the headboard. So how?"

I showed her that I could do it in a way that was completely safe - that just using loops and bows instead of knots would make it possible to simply slip out of the bonds with a twist of the wrist. I demonstrated it on her a couple of times. From her breathing, this was turning her on a lot. I, too, was turned on by what we were toying around with and I leaned in to nuzzle her as she was slipping her wrists into and out of a loop I'd made.

"And how would you tie it to the head board?" she asked.

"I showed her."

"Hmmm ..." She was thoughtfully putting the loop onto and off her wrists. She kissed me passionately and then whispered "I want to do it to you."

"What - tie me up?"

"Tie you up and have you to use. What's the phrase - have my way with you. Yes! 'Have my way.' That's what I want to do."

"Isn't that what you've BEEN doing?"

"Yes, but ..."

"But what?"

"But ... maybe it would be different if you couldn't move or hold me, or whatever. Just different somehow. And you know, I might come up with something else we haven't thought to do, you know? Like - improvise a little."

We'd talked a number of times about improvisation in jazz vs. in bluegrass, blues and rock, my preferred genres back then and also about "improvisation" as part of sex.

"You know? ... just um ... see what happens?" When I smiled, she broke into a huge grin and I lay on my back with my hands above my head, fingers linked together. She straddled me and quickly had me "helpless." I showed her how easily I could free myself and she said "don't you dare, if you want more of *this* she said, her eyes gleaming as she smiled down at me and knee-walked toward my face, shucking off her gauzy little cover-up as she did so, and finally settled her crotch - soaked from her own arousal and our earlier fuck. She held herself open with her fingers and let me kiss and lick her as she looked down at me for a while, then held onto the headboard and really got into it, rocking herself on my face, whispering about "getting all your come out of me," and "clean me up for my husband" and a whole lot in both German and, I think, Italian that I didn't understand, but I got the general idea! She came really hard.

Then she turned and held her cheeks open and pressed her ass to my mouth and told me, snarling a little, to "kiss my ass, fucker" - clearly enjoying the Americanism. "Kiss my fucking ass good, fucker!"

When my tongue pushed into her, she had another orgasm, this time on her fingers, and she fell forward, her body twitching as she held my cock, kissing my lower abdomen and thighs, and then beginning to kiss and lick my dick. She did this for a while and I told her I was going to come. "No no no no - not yet, darling. Not yet. I want much, much more before you come, darling."

She got up, tucked her short-ish hair behind her ears - and turned off the lights. There was light from the street and I didn't really think much about it. The phone rang, and she went downstairs to answer it instead of just picking up in the bedroom. As she left the room I started to object. "Hey ..." but she said "I'll be right back, darling. I have to talk to my husband in Chicago like last night, you know? Every night. I won't be long. You just relax and think about what I'm going to do when I come back upstairs."

She was back in about 5 minutes, probably, but it seemed lots longer. I could easily have slipped out of the loop, sat up, and sipped some water, whatever. But I wanted to play this for all I could and give her the experience of keeping me "helpless," so I lay there and did, indeed, think of things I'd like her to do when she came back up. Suck my cock, sit on my face some more, ride me, ride me backwards, lay on her back on top of me with my cock in her...

She came back up and I asked her if everything was OK. She said it was, and with no hesitation, she took a pillow, told me to raise my ass, and put the pillow under me. She then went to her dresser and came back with a scarf, which she put around my eyes. I was impressed and told her so. She was really getting the hand of this!

She lay next to me, her hand on my hard dick and teased her tongue into my ear, then kissed my neck and nipped at my nipples. She kissed me and when I tried to push my tongue into her mouth, she pulled back, out of reach, when she usually would hungrily receive me and suck my tongue like a cock. She came back in for another kiss and again, when my tongue probed her mouth, she pulled back. When I started to say something, she kissed me again and again, when my tongue tried to take possession of her mouth and of the kiss, she pulled back, but this time when she moved in again, I just opened my mouth and we both moaned as she took my mouth, her tongue eagerly trying to reach my throat. I let her have the kiss completely, responding only by sucking her tongue, stroking it with my own, sucking, licking and nibbling her lips as she grew increasingly excited, pressing her body against me, writhing. She broke the kiss for a moment and whispered "don't stop ... I'm going to come ..." and plunged her tongue back into my mouth as she rocked her pussy against my hip and came.

After a rest, she got up and lowered herself onto my dick. She was so hot and wet as she slowly took me in, it was all I could do to keep from coming right then, and I said so. "You can if you want, but you'll miss out, believe me."

It was a long, slow, hot fuck. And she came again. As she was lying on me, she asked me what I'd like to do next. "Does it matter? You have me tied up; you can use me as you will - have your way with me!"

"OK ... I will, fucker," and with that she came up off my cock, turned around and fulfilled yet another wish of mine, riding me in what I've learned since to call "reverse cowgirl" - but back then I thought of it as "backwards." Her ass, I knew, would be round and firm and graceful as she fluidly rose and sank and rocked and shimmied on my cock. "Take off the scarf," I said, but she didn't hear or ignored me. If I'd had my hands free, I'd have pulled it off, reached up and pulled her back onto me, with her legs spread wide, so I could keep fucking her and play with her breasts and massage her clit.

As I was forming that thought, she read my mind again and said "I want to try something," as she pulled her knees out from under her and lowered herself backward onto me, straightening her widespread legs, keeping as much of my length in her as she could.

What I didn't realize yet was that as she was doing that, and there was a lot of movement on the bed, her husband had quietly entered the room and crawled up between her legs. Now, at that time in my life, I would never have consented to "having a threesome" with her and her husband. It just wasn't in my range, I guess, though not much later became fine with three way sex with a couple. Not my favorite, but it I found it pretty hot under some circumstances and with some people.

But as she lay back she said "just go with this, baby - improvise - I really want this and I'll make it good for you, I promise ..." and that's when I felt first, his breath, then his chin, on my balls as he licked his wife's pussy where it was joined to my cock and up to her clit. She cried out and hissed something in German and reached her hand back around my head and turned to kiss me over her shoulder, her hips rocking on my cock as her husband licked her, and then went to my balls and the base of my cock.

Fact: I could have easily shoved him off with my feet, slipped my hands free and been outta there, less than a minute tops, including buttoning my jeans and pulling on my boots. But I didn't. I really don't know why.

Part of it was probably that as she kissed me, and his tongue was now swirling around my balls, my cock and her pussy, she was gripping me with her pussy muscles and moaning into my mouth and it all felt great. That's it. It felt great. Would I have preferred if she'd had a woman slip in? Of course. But at that point, it could have been a Saint Bernard down there - I wouldn't have cared as long as they it didn't stop.

12
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