Avon Lady
Copyright© 2025 by Duncan Mickloud
Chapter 3: Avon Calling
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 3: Avon Calling - This is a story of the 70s and 80s, when men were men and women were glad of it. Life was different then. Two Army buddies end up sharing a place together. When a cute little blonde arrives unannounced, the three become a love triangle. The hot blonde confuses and confounds both men. From there, the story escalates; both want her, but only one can win her heart. I had an unrequited crush on an Avon lady, an homage to those hard-working ladies.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Military Cheating InLaws Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Safe Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism Nudism
She said, “You watched us last night?”
“Yes.”
I paused a moment to think.
I like women who tease me. They are honest about life, about their wants and needs. When one teases you, it allows you to openly show your desire for her. It lets her know you appreciate her as a desirable woman.
After a few episodes of teasing, you get the idea that she’s really interested in you; she even likes you. That leads you to think you could, and should, get closer to her. You may even get lucky enough to be with her sexually if you play your cards right. I felt that’s the position I was in with Wendy.
The longer a teaser teases you, the more you expect great things will happen in your sex life. Drawn out, it develops a great desire in you - for her, in this case, my hunger for Wendy.
This is where there is a difference between the women and the girls. A real woman knows how to draw you deeper into her web. Then you begin to really want her. Eventually, it becomes that you NEED her.
Wendy had made no bones about what she wanted. The constant teasing, flirting, and flashing left little doubt. Allowing me, no, encouraging me to frig her just before Bob came home, had also left little doubt. The blowjob had removed ALL doubt. Wendy had me in her sights, and Bob was playing second place. She is toying with him. She merely enjoys being wanted.
Wendy’s really waiting for me.
It’s like a stairway. Someone takes the first step. I like how she flirts or how you’re gallant. Something like opening a door while gently steadying her arm. It’s just a touch, but she knew I was touching her arm with tenderness.
Every step you take helps. If you don’t take many steps backward, it may go merrily along on an upward path. Hopefully, that’s where you both want to go. Each of you goes up the stairway. You add to the interactions and develop a deeper relationship.
Just don’t screw it up by saying or doing something rude. One fuck-up wipes out a hundred atta-boys.
I returned to our present conversation.
Wendy repeated, “You watched us screw last night?”
I said, “I could have brought in a chair and watched up close. You two never even knew I was home. I wasn’t quiet when I came in, either. But then, neither were you two when you orgasmed. Eww.”
She said, “Interesting, but I doubt Bob would go for you watching him. He-he, I wouldn’t mind. If you haven’t noticed, I am a bit overcharged sexually. I had my first experience with a guy very recently, so I’m not a tramp, just a little overripe. I want to experience new things. Sometimes, I feel a little needy.”
‘Boy howdy!’
I said, “That’s confusing to me. I’m a little inexperienced. Can you take it easy on me for a while? I’m just a man, after all. I feel tortured. Nudity and blatant sex are a bit much to handle.”
I heard a door. Wendy moved over, and Bob walked down the hall.
He said, “Are we having a party?”
I said, “No, not yet, anyway. We had a little talk. I came in late last night, and you two were having a fun time. Um, I asked Wendy to keep your door closed. I don’t need to see your hairy ass in action, Bob. That’s Gross!”
He said, “Speak for yourself, Pilgrim. OK, I guess if I saw your naked ass going at it, I would feel the same.”
I smiled and said, “Thank you. I tried to give you lots of time last night, you old horn dog.”
He said, “I yam whut I yam, and it’s all whut I yam,” as he rubbed his knuckles over his chest.
( The “I yam” bit is a pseudo quote from Popeye the Sailor, a cartoon circa 1935 or thereabouts. )
I said, “I will leave you two love birds to it. I am winding down and will take my book to bed. See you guys much later?”
I woke up around three that afternoon, peed, and went back to my room to chill out and let my mind chew over things. I do that a lot. It helps me understand things. I put on shorts and walked down the hall. I found Wendy had a visitor.
I said, “Hello,” on seeing the stranger.”
Wendy said, “This is Shannon Ross. She’s our local Avon lady.”
I said, “It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t need any makeup right now.”
Shannon said, “Ha-ha, I can see that.”
I said, “I’m sorry, I’ll go put a shirt on. I wasn’t aware we had company.”
I walked away thinking about what I saw: a tall woman, broad-shouldered and a little plain in the face. She has brown hair with caramel highlights, a light touch of a mustache, and brown eyes. She does have a good-sized pair of tits on her, bigger even than Wendy’s size D.
She’s wearing one of those cast-iron bras for women with huge breasts. Her large stature is such that her tits are not a defining feature. She’s just a very large gal all over, so her tits are almost proportional.
I left and came back wearing a pullover shirt. I went into the kitchen, made a sandwich, and had some iced tea. Then I disappeared down the hall to my room and my book.
Later, I heard the front door close, and a minute later, a knock at my door.
I said, “Hey?”
Wendy opened the door and came in. She sat on the bed to talk.
She said, “I ordered a few things. Do you think Bob will pay for them?”
I said, “He should if you’re going to cook and clean for us and wash his dirty undies. Then you let him have your fine body, isn’t he honor-bound to support you?”
She said, “You think it’s a fine body?’
I said, “Oh, Honey, you’re a ten in any man’s little black book. Didn’t you know that? The minute I saw you at the bus station, I thought, ‘10,’ Bob, you lucky asshole.”
I continued, “You have the kind of body any real man would want. It’s enjoyable just holding you. You had both of us hooked the day you arrived.”
She said, “I never knew that about me. Bob started out somewhat indifferent than those boys had. Every boy I dated in high school only wanted to get their hands on my titties. Bob eventually went for my tits. I could have been a hunchback with bad breath, but he wanted my tits, too.”
I interrupted her, “They are some very amazing tits, after all. Admit it, you know they are fine.”
She said, “Those guys mostly made me angry. I’m more than just a pair of damn tits!”
I said, “Oh, how I know that, but ALL of your body is certifiably fine too. I think you were dating a bunch of dumb high school boys. They are not quite housebroken yet. They still need to grow up. Sometimes young guys say and do things without thinking. They can be selfish.”
She said. “That sounds a lot like Bob.”
“I said, “Oops. I didn’t say that or mean to imply it. Consider that neither of us has been formerly house-trained by a woman at this point. Either one of us is liable to pee in the corner at any moment.”
She giggled, “You don’t act that bad. I see you want me, but you have never been rude or grabby.”
I said, “Maybe it’s because I read a lot. Reading helps me understand people’s motivations and what drives them. I know there’s a person inside your lovely body. It should be respected. Other people have their own ideas, often not like our very own.”
I continued, “I grew up and lived in the sticks, so the TV reception was bad over the air. I visited the public library at least once a week. I read one book after another while city people watched Colgate or Chevy commercials. Maybe that helped me or something.”
“Then, maybe it was the Army. I was an MP, you know. I was always interested in working with people as a law officer. You have to know how people react to do that job.”
She said, “So, you don’t want to be a cop now?”
“I said, “No, not really. I like what I’m doing now, and I don’t think I want to be a cop. After being an MP, my experience tells me what I’m doing suits me just fine. Cops get killed in shoot-outs and car chases. Just driving a car all day, every day can be risky.”
She said, “Good, I like to think of you at the Mall, telling women where to shop.”
I said, “As if? I can direct them to the store they want. I’m more like the map at the entrance for women who can’t see it. They walk right past it, never looking. Men look, and I have no idea what’s inside most of the stores.”
She said, “You’re funny. They could read the map at the entrance. Do they talk to you or your partner?”
“I think I get the younger women and girls come up to me probably because I’m younger. My partner, Chuck, gets the mature women and older ladies.”
She said, “They are checking you out. Those women can read a map just fine. Have you looked in the mirror? What did you see”?
I said, “Just me. I mean, I work out to stay healthy. I don’t think I look bad.”
She said, “Holy shit, Bill Mooney. You’re a walking, talking man-doll. You’re a hunk, and you speak well. You’re also very fuckable. If they flirt with you at all, they want you. Didn’t you know that? They are flirting with you.”
She continued, “A little insight for you, Bill. Women won’t talk to you if they are not interested in you. If they don’t, they can be dismissive or even rude.”
“Bill, you might get some honest questions about the mall, but most of those women were checking you out. If you get repeat attention from the same woman, you could easily ask and get their number. That woman is interested.”
I said, “Holy sit. But that’s a ‘no-no’ at work, but it does explain a lot. When I go to the beach, I have noticed many women walk by closer to me lately.”
“She said, “The next time you go to the beach, leave your watch at home. Just ask one of those women what time it is, and see what happens. Bill, you are a serious girl magnet, and you didn’t even know it. How rich is that, ha, ha, ha?”
I said, “I have never been good at picking up women or understanding them. Making a pickup is not my thing. Who knows, I could pick up a Lizzie Borden or a con woman that empties my bank account.”
She said, “Excuses. That sounds like feeble excuses to me. In Indiana, where I come from, you would already be married and have your two point three kids.”
I said, “I saw farm life growing up here in Florida, I had farm kids as friends. That’s why I joined the Army in the first place. To get away from that hard life. Then Jimmy Carter downsized the Army, and I was flushed out immediately after Bob. That was along with the rest of the Army. I would have stayed for as long as they needed or wanted me. In any case, I am hesitant to get involved seriously right now.”
I continued, “Wendy, my plan currently is to pay this house off by the time I’m 30. I bought it with a 15-year mortgage and make double payments to make that happen.”
She said, “Why? What’s the rush?”
I said, “My folks married at 18 and never had a pot to pee in. I’m not doing that. Traditionally, men did not get married until they could provide a stable home for their wives. Nowadays, everyone is all free love and that stupid stuff.”
I continued, “They rent an apartment, throw a mattress on the floor, and away they go. They only want to get an early start and go at sex like bunnies. At thirty, I think it’s early enough to start looking for the right woman. Then, I will be properly situated.”
She said, “When you’re thirty? All the remaining women your age will be picked over. You’ll be looking at divorced women and has-beens. Most women can’t have babies after about 35. Then what will you do?”
I said, “Who said anything about a 30-year-old woman? I’ll find someone young and attractive like you. I’ll be a man with a home and money in the bank. I should be able to attract a honey aged 18 to 25. By the way, how old are you?”
I touched her hair and ran my fingers through it. It was softer than I expected.
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