First of all, to remind you, my name is Brent Wilson. Like I told you a few days ago, I'm not a Brad Pitt or a Matt Damon. Not an Arnie kind of guy either. Not too skinny or to bulky either.
I'm like that Joe guy I mentioned to you, who just doesn't stand out in a crowd. Or in that dance hall with bar attached, or perhaps it is the other way around, I still have no idea why that beauty, yeah, Sam ... Samantha ... latched onto me and twisted my heart to a setting it has never seen before.
Well, actually, now I do know, but you'll get the idea as I continue my story. Back then, all I knew was I wanted to dance with her. She took the reins and off we went playing my heartstrings and body strings. She took me on to a 'Higher Plane' than I've ever been on before.
Right, she's the one I told you about and our one night stand. Well, it wasn't an entire night because as I told you, when I woke up in the morning, she was gone. No note. No lipstick on the bathroom mirror, not even a "C-Ya" scribbled on my my right palm.
Hey, pay attention here! I know that a girl writes her TELEPHONE number on your palm. Like I said, not her number OR a "C-Ya" anywhere. Sorry. I get a little testy.
It's early in the morning and I haven't had a chance to even pour my first cup of coffee. It's brewing. I can smell the coffee.
Yeah, I do wake and smell the coffee all the time in the actual sense and in the ethereal sense too. So, my first thought that life changing day when I woke up and thought, "Yes" to her question, "Will You Love Me In The Morning?"
Patting the cold side of the bed next to mine, I knew two things. Sam was not in bed next to me and ... she hadn't been there for a while. The third thing I realized is that there was no coffee to smell. She wasn't up getting me breakfast.
Before dawn, I had reached over to the warmth snuggled next to me, confirming I wasn't sleeping alone. It was skin I was touching so Chloe hadn't jumped up to replace Sam. She, Chloe, has her own bed and for the most part, sleeps there. Except during thunder storms and then she's under the covers with my arm around her.
Sheesh! Get a life! Remember!!! I told you I had a dog. My BITCH I told you. 'Chloe!'
OK! Sorry again. I'm just a little extra testy today. I've gotta box up that attitude and send it away somewhere. I'd address it to 'Blue Balls' in Pennsylvania Amish Country, but I think with a name like that, they don't need any more attitude.
I've experienced 'Blue Balls' which Sam had me wringing myself for several days after that scorching sex we had. I told you about our first time. Although I didn't tell you that right at the point of orgasm she purred. Everything about her vibrated and the "OooHuunnHaaa" that she gasped was soft and deep.
I had been bringing her slowly up the stimulation ladder, a rung at a time. Building to a final release and then the fireworks. But I get ahead of myself here. That first sex with her was the best I'd ever had and she did know how to treat a guy!
I know I didn't go into a lot of detail the first time I told you this story. We didn't really know each other. I guess we DO now, but, well, we ain't buddies yet.
Ha, buddies. "Buddies!" I've never had a 'Buddie' and given the United States Army's definition, I don't really WANT one. Yeah, I spent my stint in the Army. My company's Drill Sergeant made that clear. You know that you are told to never volunteer. He made that clear during our first hours under his tutelage.
He had us all stand by the ends of our bunks and told us that he needed a 'Buddy.' Now, before I had gotten in the Army, I knew the credo, "Don't EVER Volunteer," not for anything, not for nothing! So when he asked for anyone that wanted to be his 'Buddy' raise their hand, two guys, who didn't seem to have it all there anyway, put up their hands.
What followed was, to say the least, memorable. He told them to come over to him. He was speaking in a nice friendly, non-threatening voice. "Come here, you two," he said.
Then he looked at the rest of us. He told the two standing before him to get on their knees, which they did. In a spectacular movement he took his riding crop and 'Knighted' each one with a tap on their shoulder. The two guys were beaming. They had been affirmed!
Then Sarge told them to rise and face the group. Their smiles fell when he asked them if they knew what a 'Buddy' was. In a little bit of fear, they started to turn their heads back to him and got an instant 'Thwap' on their butts from his riding crop. They each yelped at the impact. It was more from the swiftness of the correction than any pain, but it scared the Bejezzers out of them, and of course, the rest of us.
Then he went on to tell us that you don't volunteer for anything. "These two didn't know what a Buddy is and they quickly volunteered to be my 'Buddy.'
"A friend is someone who goes to town on a Overnight Pass and gets two blow jobs."
Continuing, the Sarge told us, "A Buddy is someone who brings one of those Blow Jobs back for you!"
Two more quick swats on their butts and then in the deep growl we began to love and hate, at perhaps an unreachable intensity of 120 decibels, told his two new 'Buddies' to "Get the FUCK back in line!"
So let me change what I said to you about not being a Buddy, 'YET!' Hey, we ain't FRIENDS yet. That's better. But there is a familiarity as we have talked before. So, let me get off from my little side track and return to the subject at hand. Sam and Sex!
Oh, I can't resist. That little phrase, "Sam and Sex!" joggled my mind with a laugh. I hope you have seen Adam Sandler's run with Drew Barrymore in the film "50 First Dates." He found himself on the far side of Hawaii in a little eatery whose breakfast specialty was 'Spam and Eggs!'
That didn't sound too delicious. Strange and yet, perhaps edible. But not too appealing. On the other hand, the breakfast I was yearning for that first morning after finding her gone was my dream breakfast, "Sam and Sex!"
I hope I don't get too personal here, but I have to get this out in the open. Sex with Sam was the best. I was down there with my tongue lapping up her flowing juices as I said. I had her paper thin inner lips stretched to perfection.
Her body was vibrating and the staccato pulse of her breathing pushing out that deeply erotic "Ooo-Huunn-Haaa." Each syllable in a slightly different tone. It reminded me of a steam engine, starting up an incline.
Each puff of the engine deeper and slower, surging toward the peak. Then at last, reaching the crest, exploding into a rapid string of shrieks with the whistle blowing success.
It was at that moment that I brought her to her peak that I moved into her. Put myself deeply into her and felt the silvery inside of her vagina. Letting it wrap around me. I thrust into her as she orgasmed and she let out a series of soft pulsing, "Eee Eee Eee."
Now she had me hard from our kissing and how she had manipulated my sex. Her fingers had touched me and pleased me in ways that I never experienced before.
I told you that as we kissed, standing there in her Coral colored underthings, she had unbuckled my pants. Yes. My sort of large buckle had clanked onto the floor causing her to giggle. I'm glad it missed my toes too.
But, she knew all of my hot spots. Where they were and how to tease them. When she first reached down there, she slid both of her hands beyond what most women would think was the target, either my pecker or my balls. No, she slid over all that and went deeper. Deeper to that area just behind my scrotum and pressed. Four fingers; index fingers and second fingers of each hand.
I went right on my tip toes as she lifted. I hummed into her mouth from the pleasure as she made little circles there. Oh, boy. That felt so good.
Of course, the pressure my balls were getting from her palms was great too. Balls are strange bed fellas for guys. So much pleasure and so much pain can emanate from those two orbs.
Anyway, she was raising me to nice heights and she shifted her hands. It took a while for me to figure out what she did to me and perhaps I'm wrong but it was two things at once. She must have grabbed me, in her hands. My balls, one in each hand, separated them and squeezed. Except that she used her index fingers to stroke that rift between them.
I didn't realize before how sensitive that coarse thread of skin that joined both halves of my scrotum was. The pleasure from stroking that rough flesh there was great.
As I said, the gentle yet tough squeeze of my balls was another pleasure center that helped surge more blood into my penis. It felt like it was rock hard to me.
When she lifted her hands just a little higher and pressed her palms together, encasing my penis, I could tell my shaft was the hardest I'd ever known.
I didn't want to come off in her hands so I lifted mine to her breasts and started massaging her flesh. When I concentrated on her nipples, her hands slowed and I began my assault on her.
I slipped from her grasp as I cupped her sex and then lowered myself. Her panties went along for the ride as I fell to my knees in front of her. My tongue searched out the dimple at the top of her cleft and I lowered her onto the bed.
Readying her for my entry, I stretched her innermost skin to it's fullest. I took my tongue all through her cleft, from the large dimple at the bottom of her cleft, to the top one, harboring her pea sized center of pleasure.
Just as she neared the peak of her pleasure, I inserted two fingers and drummed against her 'G' spot. Her sounds went up an octave. I lifted up and grabbed myself, guiding my shaft into her.
I slid into her in one swift, yet slow motion, movement. Sam gasped at my intrusion and her legs and arms wrapped around me. With her sex and the rest of her body wrapping around me, it felt like her vagina had swallowed me.
Her warmth enveloped me.
I know that it is difficult to understand, unless that has happened to you. It was ... like going home.
Home ... where a man was supposed to be.
Like love and sex is meant to be.
I knew then there was no other woman for me. I wanted, with all my being, not only to 'Love her in the morning, ' but forever.
I was in love for perhaps the first time in my life.
Lying there in bed together after such intense lovemaking, we held each other. Nothing mattered except our arms, hands and bodies. We were all that mattered.
I did tell you that we made love three times that night, but I'm only counting intercourse. We made love for hours. Petting, stroking and, ahem, eating each other.
Sam loved Oral Sex. Yes, with a capital 'O' and a capital 'S.'
If you want to measure our pleasure by orgasms, then I can only tell you that I had at least five. Five in one night. I didn't know the male anatomy could perform to that extent. But, she did that for and to me.
I remember one guy in college who had bragged about his 'Score.' That is, the number of times he could do it in 24 hours. Eighteen was a number he could not get beyond. Five was more than enough for me.
That guy, Harry was his name. 'Hank The Wank, ' was our nickname for him. His other accomplishment was 4 times in a half hour. Of course he did admit to abstaining for at least two days before that 'Record' attempt. Talk about 'Blue Balls!'
Who said masturbation wasn't fun?
Records were never my goal with Sam. It is just what happened. From the moment we were in bed together, our hands were always in contact with each other. Her skin was softer than any woman's before or after.
Well, OK, her hands were not always on me, nor mine on her. There were brief interludes when either of us had to dash to the John. Sam's first trip there was not to pee as you might have thought. It was to get a warm wash cloth. I know she had swiped her sex with a cleansing cloth and then rinsed it and cleaned me off.
After out first sexual bout, I had settled over, lying on my back. Her right leg was up resting on my hip and I started to get hard again. She giggled as Herb (that's my name for my member) brushed against her shin. Of course, she was tweaking my chest, or more specifically, twisting and gently pulling on my nipples.
Sam said, "I see your little Devil has risen again." Reaching down with her right hand she grasped the tip of my penis and rolled her fingers over it getting a sighing gasp from me.
Holding onto Herb and giving a little pull she told me that he had been messy and needed to be cleaned up. She reached up and touched the tip of my nose with her dampened finger and then leaned into me, kissing where she had deposited that drop of moisture.
"Mmmm, not bad," she said. Then she dashed into the bathroom telling me she needed to clean up and so did I.
"Stay there," she said when I made a movement to follow her.
Quickly she was kneeling over me with cloth in hand, wiping my sex in clear, warm water. When she told me to spread my legs, I complied and with one hand, she lifted my scrotum and wiped under it and held me in her moist, clothed hand.
"Now, I want to taste of you," she smiled at me. Turning her face back to my sex, she lowered her lips and kissed the tip of my penis. Then she did something quite different. She pinched my penis at the base, between her index finger and thumb. Keeping firm but light pressure on me, she lifted up.
Laughing, she said to me, "I see you're ready again," and gave my penis a swipe with her tongue.
"Mmmmm, Good!" she said. "I should call you, Mister Campbell, your soup tastes so good."
I know that she had only gathered my precum, but her joke gave us a little laugh.
Then she settled in on her serious business. I guess that guys all want to be deep throated, me too. But what she did to me, moves that to second place.
To begin, she pointed her tongue and rode it up and down the underside of my penis, right along that ridge of very sensitive flesh that runs down it and along the centerline of my scrotal sack.
On the third or fourth pass, excuse me if I lost count in that pleasure centering period, she traveled just a hint lower and kissed me just below my ball sack.
Grabbing my penis firmly at it's base, she lifted up as far as my sheath would let her, effectively lifting and tightening my scrotum. Her kisses and tongue were there, moistening me. When she kissed me along that centerline of my sack, she sucked some skin into her mouth and released her grip on my penis.
Soon the rest of my scrotal contents were in her mouth. She continued to suck and pull away from me until the pleasure started to turn to pain. Tightening her lips around the outside of my scrotum, she let her mouth close. I was entirely in her mouth. Her tongue was still at work.
Sam, pushed her tongue firmly at the center of each of my testicles and whipped it up and down that central rift. I relaxed a little, getting used to this very different assault on my sex. Then she closed her mouth firmer around me and did three things at once.
Her hand was still wrapped solidly around the base of my penis and she stroked firmly upward, then back to the base and tightened her grasp. She increased the suction on my testicles. The thing that set me over the top into an immediate ejaculation was she hummed into me, there in her mouth.
Now, with her hand very tightly around my penis, I, well, couldn't expel anything. The valve was shut. That amazingly, caused my body to continue to pump. My orgasm got stronger and continued. I usually only pulse maybe five or six times in an orgasm. Then having shot my load, it's over.
Under Sam's expert manipulation, I'd guess I wound up in the mid teens before she released my balls from her mouth and her grip on my penis.
Then her mouth was sucking on the head of my penis and I exploded into her mouth.
Yes, she continued to massage my ball sack with one hand and to jack me into her mouth with the other. That prolonged my orgasm for another four, perhaps five, seconds. Then like before, with my penis pinched between her thumb and index finger she lifted up and milked me dry.
"Now that was nice," she told me.
I on the other hand was speechless. Me, I was off in a panting marathon, way off in pleasure land. She kept massaging my scrotum, balls and that flat area under and behind my ball sack.
"You're going to be a little sore," she whispered when she finally settled next to me, kissing the side of my head. I had to agree with her a few minutes later when the endorphins wore off and an ache spread over my groin.
"Wow!" was all I could say. I wanted to ask her, "My God, where did you learn to do that," but felt such a question would not be appropriate at that juncture. So I just tried to work through the ache and fall from the high cloud tops I had been lying on.
Sam snuggled into me and started rubbing my chest again. She avoided my nipples for a while, just playing on the sparse hair I had on my chest.
"Soft," she told me after a while. "Nice and soft."
Reaching south, she scrunched her fingers through my pubic hair and told me that I should shave if I wanted her mouth down there frequently. Before I could respond, her mouth was on mine and we were deep in a French tongue battle.
I don't think it was more than twenty minutes later, her hand slid from my chest down to my member and grasping it, it responded. "I had a feeling he'd return quickly," she said.
So that's how it went all night. Well, at least the first part of the night. I gave her oral pleasure at least twice more and she returned the favor once along with two more bouts where I dipped my wick into her and fired rounds into her vaginal cavity.
But alas, direct continuation of our night's tryst was not going to be repeated. Sam was gone and I was sad. I sulked around most of that day hoping she would return. In the evening, I was sitting at the bar, drinking to thoughts of her, my "Sam and Sam!"
Hah, that was a Freudian Slip! Can you tell my mind is always on 'Sam, ' Yeah, 'Sam and Jack!' is my drink of choice.
So it was the entire evening I was trying, waiting, hoping she would return. I was even there for the eleven-o'clock lottery drawing. And they also drew the 'Red Power Ball' numbers too.
I really wasn't paying attention. I wanted Sam. So about midnight I went back to my place, hoping against hope that more than Chloe would be there. I'd even left the door unlocked. But, wishes aren't granted with much frequency in real life.
So I walked Chloe over to the park. Chloe performed and I scooped up her leavings into a bag. Thoughtful dogie owner was I, so I always took a baggie with me. I, we, wandered over to the trash receptacle to deposit her Doody.
Chloe always liked that part, because her sniffer was wildly at work, I'm sure detecting who had been there. If Chloe could only tell me where my Sam had gone, I would have been very happy.
Miracles just don't happen.
Well, on Monday, after work I decided to stop by the local beer 'slash' dance hall establishment and surprise, surprise, they had a HUGE BANNER over the outside of the place.
"We Had A Winner!" was emblazoned on it in at least two foot letters. As I got there, there was a news crew just setting up. Their van out in the street had that tall, telescoping pole at least thirty feet in the air so they could get a clear satellite shot. It was shortly after ten thirty that I had wandered over.
Inside I overheard all the ruckus as they got their spin on the news. That the Fifty Million winner, the sole winner, had purchased a ticket right there in River City!
Sorry for all of the movie and show references. That last one is part of a line from a song in Music Man, if you didn't know.
Anyway. I sat down and immediately, Bill, the Beer-Tender, just plunked my Sam and Jack in front of me. "Can you believe it! I get a million dollars for selling that ticket. I'm going to go on a nice long vacation!"
"Great news!" I told him. "I glad for you."
I knew Bill, well, as much as you do get to know a Beer-Tender at a bar. We had talked and spilled our woes to each other fairly frequently. I guess I'd count him as a friend. And I was happy for him, not only as a friend but a nice guy, who deserved a break.
Well, I watched the news people get real uptight as the witching hour approached. They turned on the TV's above the bar to their channel. The 'Lottery Winner' was the top of the news. They immediately turned to the Local Reporter, Sally Aimes.
I always laughed at that name. I know it was a Stage Name, but women really have a problem, AMING! That's a guy thing.
As kids, our skill was spelling our names in the new fallen snow.
Hah! Another childhood credo: Don't eat yellow snow! But I digress.
So there was Sally, beginning the interview with Bill. He actually looked pretty good. After her intro she asked Bill what he thought about selling the lottery winner. Well, he choked up and said to her, "How would you feel if you had just gotten a cool million for selling a ticket!"
Bill was all smiles and waving his hands high in the air. Very pleased that he also had won.
Then all hell broke lose. The camera man scanned the audience and Sally asked the crowd if anyone had bought a Red Power Ball Ticket.
Well, Bill said that he only remembered selling one ticket Saturday night. "They told me that the winning ticket was sold late Saturday night."
Then with a thought, Bill said, "I think it was to a Girl and, say, Brent. That guy sitting at the end of the bar!"
Well, I almost dropped off the stool right onto the floor when the picture on the TV was ME! I looked at right at the TV camera and a mike was thrust into my face. Sally was asking me if I was the one who 'Got Lucky!'
I had forgotten, Sam had bought that ticket.
I reached into my pocket and the TV station was superimposing the winning numbers. As I read the numbers on my ticket, I mouthed the numbers. As I said each number they highlighted it until ALL the winning numbers were glowing back at me.
Sally gave me a huge pat on my back and congratulated me for winning the Fifty-Million Grand Prize. Yeah, I had the Power Ball number too. Interesting how fate can fall in your lap when you least expect it.