Delta
by Jimmy Lee
Copyright© 2026 by Jimmy Lee
Erotica Sex Story: Delta (best ass ever) and I finally get together.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Cream Pie Oral Sex .
“Keith’s a sex addict. I can’t stand to even be in his bedroom,” she said with a shudder.
The shock from hearing that made me stop chewing my coconut curry shrimp and stare. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to not leave my mouth hanging open.
“What do you mean,” I asked when I recovered a few moments later.
“He’s into weird, kinky things. It’s gotten worse since we divorced,” she replied.
My raised eyebrows and tilted head signaled her to continue. I had resumed chewing.
“I shouldn’t be talking about this. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“What came over you is a need to get something out,” I advised. “If you want to talk, then talk.”
I had an ulterior motive. I was dying to learn something about her sex life. I’d known Delta for several years on a platonic level. We met in a meditation group. What first attracted me was the most fabulous ass I’d ever seen in a pair of jeans. Seriously, none finer. Once she posted a photo of her and two other women with similar hair and bodies sitting on a bench facing away from the camera. I picked her out by the shape of her butt. The rest of her was nice, too. Large, still firm breasts on an athletic body that didn’t look anywhere near the 52 years it had been around, or that it had birthed two kids many years ago. I don’t know why we never got together before, but we’ve always been friends and that was it.
She sighed, clenched then relaxed her fists, stirred her drunken noodles around in their bowl, glanced at the tables around us which were mostly empty, and sighed again. She needed a nudge.
“Weird and kinky? Sounds more perv than addict,” I said.
She nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” She glanced around again, then continued, “Last night he tied me spread-eagle on the bed and rubbed his dick all over me. That was it. No sex, no kissing, no cuddling, just rubbed his dick on me for a little over a half-hour, then untied me and we went to sleep.”
I realized I’d stopped chewing again. What the actual fuck? I pondered whether to ask what I wanted to ask, deciding to just go for it. “I take it y’all were naked?” She nodded. Shit, what a visual. Of her tied spread-eagle tied to a bed, not of him. Chew, Steve, and don’t reach down to rub your awakening cock. Think, be a friend, not a lecherous horndog. Fuck, this was getting difficult. “I figured. Just wanted to make sure, what with it being so weird.”
She nodded in agreement. “He’s never done that before. Usually when he ties me up, he has at me with his toys, then we have almost normal sex.” Geez, another visual. Eat, Steve. Put food in mouth, chew, think of something to say.
“So, he likes to tie you up?” That was all I could think of.
“Sometimes,” she replied. “Sometimes he wants me to tie him up and do to him what he does to me.” By now, my imagination was running places that were rendering me useless as a friend to her. Time to get back on track if I had been at all. Staring at her bowl, she continued in a soft voice, “I’m sorry. This is probably weirding you out. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.”
“Delta, back in the ‘70s my first wife and I got into the swinging scene and we did some pretty out-there stuff, both together and with others in varying numbers. You don’t have to hedge on anything you say thinking you might shock me because I doubt that you can.”
She seemed to relax a bit hearing that. “He has a strap-on he likes me to wear and do him in his ass.” I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at that one. OMG, the redneck macho badass lumberjack likes it up his shitter. “He sometimes uses it on me, too, when he can’t get it up.” Good Lord, if it weren’t for the shrimp in my mouth, I’d have busted out laughing.
“That’s a bit unusual, but far from perv, in my opinion. Are you sure you’re not just having issues with him in general?” I was aware of some of her history and didn’t believe that Keith’s kinks were anything new to her.
She and Keith were married for years, until their youngest was on her own, then Delta bolted. That’s what she does. Then comes back and bolts again. Over and over. Not just with Keith, but also this town he and I live in which she claims to have a “hate/hate” relationship with. I suspect the reason she hates it is that Keith is here. She can’t fully break from him, so she uses something here as an excuse to keep coming back, and transfers her dislike for that onto the town, a construct that can’t defend itself or explain its side. In the years I’ve known her, I’ve found her to be quite a nomad. She can’t stay with any place, person, or thing for more than a few months before moving on.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” she sighed before spooning some drunken noodles into her mouth. Damn, I had something I’d much rather put in there, so long as she didn’t chew on it.
“This obviously has you upset, Delta, and I’m willing to do whatever I can to help ease your burden. You know me, that’s what I do.” She smiled, nodded, and took another bite. “If you want, I’ll be glad to get down on this with you.” I chose those words specifically for their subliminal message. She’s an investigative journalist, a decent wordsmith, and there was a brief glint in her eye that suggested that my message might not have been as subliminal as I’d hoped. Well, she was still sitting there and hadn’t thrown her noodles at me, so hope might still abound.
“I’d like that,” she said, smiling, then took another bite of noodles. We sat in silence eating our meals. My mind was churning trying to figure out what the next step might be. I’d pretty much laid it on the table with my not-so-subtle suggestion, but I had no idea where she was in all this, other than not totally pissed off at me.
We finished our meals, both declined desserts, I paid, and as we stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant she asked, “Do you still have that airbed in your front bedroom?” She’d stayed one night on it a couple of years back when Keith had been too drunk to be tolerable.
“Still there. It will need to be aired up and sheets put on it, but you’re welcome for as long as you need.” I figured she wouldn’t be prone to moving in for a long term as Angie had been, so it was a safe offer.
“OK. I’ll meet you at your place,” she said with a smile and a lilt to her voice. It was a struggle to hold my imagination in check as I headed to the truck. She crossed the street and headed to her car in the other direction. I briefly turned and walked backwards just to watch that magnificent ass of hers. Damn, I’d eat that. Hmmm, maybe I’m a perv, too.
We took different routes because of where we were parked, and she was waiting at my front door when I pulled up in front of my garage. The door is in a small alcove, set back about two feet. Nice to have a dry spot to stand while unlocking when it’s rainy or snowy. It is a bit tight with two people, though, and Delta’s firm, luscious breasts were rubbing my arm as I opened the door. She didn’t seem to make any effort to prevent that from happening.
Inside, I told her to make herself at home. There was cold tea in the fridge if she wanted any. I don’t drink, so there was no alcohol to offer. She prefers whiskey over beer. She hollered that she was good as I went into the front bedroom to tend to the bed and tidy up a bit. That room was also “temporary” storage.
As I finished with the sheets and pillowcase, I heard her say from the bedroom doorway, “That’s just how I remember it.” Her hair was down from the bun she usually keeps it in. There was more grey than I remembered and damn, she looked sexy hot. Had she loosened a blouse button? her shirttail, now pulled from her jeans, gapped open and I had a clear view of her cameltoe. Damn, I’d eat that, too.
“So, you don’t think Keith’s a perv,” she asked nonchalantly, leaning against the door frame.
“Well, by your description, if he’s a perv, then I am, too,” I replied, hoping that wouldn’t squash what my imagination was seeing building.
She looked thoughtful for a minute, then said, “I’d like to take a shower, if that’s okay.”
I replied, “Of course. Towels and washcloths are still in the hall pantry right there behind you. I only have the Dr. Bronner’s soap, no fancy shampoo, sorry.” Then I realized I was standing in what was now her bedroom. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” As I passed by her, the fit was tight, like it was coming into the house, but it was that marvelous butt I brushed against this time. She never moved or made any indication I’d touched her. I went into my bedroom which was directly across the hall and sat down at my desk with my back to the door which I’d left open. I heard the rustle of clothing followed by the pantry door closing, then the bathroom door closed. Damn, I wished I had a mirror on my wall. The shower started and I pondered if I could somehow hide a wireless camera in the bathroom. OK, Steve, now you are encroaching upon pervland. I turned most of my attention to email, with a little still focused on the sounds from the shower.
After several minutes, the water stopped, the shower door slid open, and there were sounds of sink water running, rustling, etc. The bathroom door opened and there was the faint shuffle sounds of bare feet on a carpet. I was expecting to hear a “Good night” or something, but instead I felt hands softly on my shoulders, then damp warmth by my left ear and a breathy, “Thank you. You are such a sweetheart.” Whoa! The tone was laced with a whole lot more than a simple thank you.
Turning my head slightly toward her I said, “My pleasure,” as she kissed my cheek. I could just see her out of the corner of my eye, in a towel, bending over, her face right at mine, and the towel was too small to cover everything in her position.
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