When: September 1986 to February 1988.
Status: Married 10 years, no children.
Occupation: Insurance Broker
Meetings: Lost Count
Age: 40
Quotable: "I'd like to stuff him (Greg) into a trash compactor."
Quotable: "I'd like to stuff him (Greg) into a trash compactor."
I was working through the paralegal program at La Verne and couldn't wait to start working in the legal field (why, I do not know). In the meantime, it was still mobile home renovation (Jim had completely taken over his father's business and turned it into a full-time venture by this point) and freelance picture-takin'.
Greg was, of course, a high roller, and one of his projects at this time involved a jewelry store that he was planning to open in Orange County in 1997. I first mentioned him in the Maria post. Greg commanded the complete attention from everyone--from a lowly photo guy/aspiring legal assistant to his insurance agent.
Who just happened to be named Allison.
So I was there one day in April. I was taking pictures of the store and the inventory and minding my own business. Well, I guess I was minding Greg's business. Whatever. Greg was in a terrible mood and I was just doing my best to avoid him. He went into the back where he had set up a makeshift office when she walked in.
Whoa.
"Hello. Is Greg here?"
"In the back."
"You're the photographer, I take it?"
"You take it right."
"You take it right."
"I'm Allison, his insurance agent. Hey, do me a favor......uh....?"
Fuck you? Sure, I'll fuck you. Name the time and place and your choice of position and condom.
Fuck you? Sure, I'll fuck you. Name the time and place and your choice of position and condom.
"Ryan. Name it."
"When you develop the pictures, make an extra set for me? He'll never do it. Pretty please?"
"When you develop the pictures, make an extra set for me? He'll never do it. Pretty please?"
"Sure."
"Here's my business card."
"Allison Grayson." (No, that wasn't her real last name.)
"Here's my business card."
"Allison Grayson." (No, that wasn't her real last name.)
"Oh no. Now you know my last name."
"And your work address."
"Great. Now you're going to stalk me?"
"Is that an offer or a request?""
"Depends. Do you have any experience in this field?"
"Yes. I was stalking someone....who was incredible. Such a wonderful person...I just couldn't help myself.
"Oh wow. Who was it?"
"Me. I'm a narcissist."
"Great. Now you're going to stalk me?"
"Is that an offer or a request?""
"Depends. Do you have any experience in this field?"
"Yes. I was stalking someone....who was incredible. Such a wonderful person...I just couldn't help myself.
"Oh wow. Who was it?"
"Me. I'm a narcissist."
That line got her laughing.
"Well, I suppose that'll do."
Greg popped his head out of his ass--I mean, out from the back--and saw us talking. Of course he had to go and ruin my fun.
"Well, I suppose that'll do."
Greg popped his head out of his ass--I mean, out from the back--and saw us talking. Of course he had to go and ruin my fun.
"About time you got here."
Then he disappeared.
"Well, I guess I have been summoned."
"Well, I guess I have been summoned."
"Good luck."
"Thank you. Nothing like getting reamed on a Monday."
"Thank you. Nothing like getting reamed on a Monday."
I liked this lady.
About fifteen minutes later, she emerged.
About fifteen minutes later, she emerged.
"Okay, then, that was fun. I have to go now and remove that spoon from my ass."
Greg came out again from the back. "I'm going to lunch, Ryan. I'll need those pictures as soon as possible."
"Is Friday okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
And then he was gone. No goodbye for Allison.
"Is Friday okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
And then he was gone. No goodbye for Allison.
"Asshole."
I started laughing. I admired her keen perception.
"Yeah, but I bet he brings you a ton of business."
"Don't remind me. I just had to have that Mercedes."
"Buy American."
"I did. I bought it in Newport Beach."
"Okay, that's cool. How about a ride sometime?"
"Get me those pictures and we'll see."
"Okay, that's cool. How about a ride sometime?"
"Get me those pictures and we'll see."
We chatted for awhile longer and then Allison left and I finished up my work for the day. Over the next several days, I gave her a couple of calls to "update" her on the status of the pictures and see if she had any other requests. Of course, I was pretty much just taking any chance to weasel my way into her life. I think I did a pretty good job. The calls usually ended up with us chatting for a few minutes.
I made that extra copy of that photo set for Allison and charged Greggy-Face for my time. And despite the overall prickness that he almost always displayed, there was one thing he was great at: paying, and paying well. And he never questioned what he was billed for--or contested what he was billed for, I should say.
Despite that, I still loved doing his wife when I had the chance. Hey, at least I didn't charge him for THAT, right?
When the pics were done, I called Allison to let her know. I could have mailed them, but figured that since I was an awesome guy, I'd offer to drop them off at her office, which was located in Placentia, not far from where Greg's new store and temporary office was. If nothing else, I could try and look down her top or something. Besides, it was a Friday and I didn't have a date--Georgie, my girlfriend, was working. Maybe getting a shot of some cleavage would get me through the night.
Yes, I'm that pathetic.
I drove down to the O.C. and dropped a set off to Greg. I handed him my invoice and he looked at it and said, "Two sets?"
"Allison wanted a set."
"Okay, that's fine. Thanks Ryan."
He then handed me a check for my services. Like I said, the dude would spend money. Cheap he was not.
"Thanks, Greg."
"Oh, I'll need you to drive down to Encintas to take some pictures of a couple of houses I just bought. Here's the addresses and the keys. No rush, I just need them in the next week or so."
"No problem."
I was pleasantly surprised by his good mood. Maybe he was fucking that barista chick at the coffee store across the street.
I had tried to get to know her better, but had certainly failed miserably. But I do remember one time a couple of weeks later when he and I went to grab some coffee and she really seemed to like him. A lot. It appeared mutual.
There's no accounting for taste, I guess. Hey, if she wanted to git down wit Greg rather than ride the Ryan Railway, that's just how it be. I mean, if that really was the case.
But that's neither here nor there nor anywhere.
I got into my car and drove up to Placentia. When I got to her office, I went in and told the receptionist that I was there to see Allison. The receptionist--who I most assuredly did NOT want to poach--was very nice and showed me to her office.
She smiled and told me to grab a chair. The receptionist left and Allison and I went over the pictures and talked for about half an hour, getting periodically interrupted by phone calls.
We lost track of time after the phone stopped ringing around five. Her receptionist left and we kept talking. Finally, she looked up at the clock.
"Wow. Six. Lost track of time. Hope I didn't keep you from your girlfriend."
"No. She's working tonight. The whole weekend, in fact."
"Huh. So, you guys serious? Just dating? None of my business, but just wondering."
"Not serious at all."
Well, Georgie might have been, but I wasn't.
"Huh."
"What?"
"Well, hubby's out of town. Care to join a lady for dinner? My treat."
"Love to."
She called and made a reservation for 8:00.
"Cool. We have our reservation. We'll get there a little early, but we can have a couple of drinks if we have to wait."
We went out to the parking lot and she said, "Follow me, honey."
Fuck yeah, baby! A great dinner, drinks, and a hot married blonde lady! Friday nights are awesome!
Then she turned around and walked back over.
"Hey, mind if I ask a favor?"
Yes, I'll fuck you. Name the time...
"Not at all."
"I live in Glendora. Would you mind if I dropped my car off at home and you could take me over to Cask 'n Cleaver? I want to have a few drinks to unwind and don't want to drive."
"No problem."
"Okay, follow me. If I lose you, and I won't, I'll wait for you on the strip mall off of Calora. Just take the Arrow exit."
"That's fine. I know the area."
Glendora isn't far from San Dimas at all, so it wasn't exactly a huge favor. She did give me her home number and address just in case we totally lost each other.
Back in the dark ages, kids, we didn't have cell phones. We used telephones that we couldn't use to take pictures of our special private parts (or anything else). That's right--all we could use them for was talking and listening.
Which was fine, except that installing apps was a bitch.
I didn't lose her, though. I followed her up to her house and pulled into the driveway. Allison came up to me and said, "Just pull into the garage. If I have a few too many, you can just drive my car back here."
I remember hoping that that wasn't the only garage I'd be pulling into that night! Whoa!
Okay, so the scorecard was reading: dinner and drinks at the Cask, an insanely hot married blonde, and the possibility of driving a Mercedes back.
Friday nights are awesome!
And this one was about to get even more awesome. I mean, c'mon, after three years of no poachette entries, you think I'd write about a lady I DIDN'T boink?
I pulled into her garage (snicker) and then got into her car and we drove over. We got there a little after 7:00 and it looked pretty busy. So we checked in and then went and found an empty table in the bar.
Allison ordered some wine--and smiled at the server and said, "Just leave the bottle." I ordered a Long Island iced tea. Allison also ordered a couple of appetizers.
After Allison had ordered the bottle of wine--she drank that thing down as we waited for a table--I knew she'd be in no condition to drive home. Wine isn't a hardcore type of liquor, but it'll still get you buzzed enough. And that was fine. I knew, however, that I would need to limit my drinks to two.
I've always been a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I totally admit it. I can't handle it physically. If I drink too much, I get sick. As in throwing up sick. I learned my limits regarding alcohol early in life. Too much just doesn't agree with me.
Don't get me wrong. I've been drunk plenty of times. And it doesn't take much, and it always ends up with me calling Ralph on the porcelain phone. I have to stay in "Buzzed Basement" rather than the "Plastered Parlor".
Hey, good stuff. That line alone was worth waiting three years for, huh?
No?
Anyway, I finished my drink off and, of course, was feeling fine. I figured we'd be there until at least 9:30, so I had another.
And mercy, I was feeling good.
Around 8:30, Allison and I were taken to our table. It was actually a cozy little corner booth. Seriously, could this night get better?
Uhhhhhhhhh YAHHHHHH.....
Allison was on her second bottle of wine and we ordered our dinners. I ordered the New York Strip steak and Allison ordered the salmon. After ordering, we went up to the salad bar--endless trips, mind you--and started loading up our plates.
Allison stumbled a little reaching for a topping. She looked at me and said, "Hope you enjoy driving my Benz."
Around 9:00, Allison was pretty, uh, relaxed. Not drunk, but definitely mellow.
She talked about her marriage. Typical story. A lady stuck in a boring marriage. The sex had slowed down. She loved her husband and cared about him but....
We talked about work and a lot of other things. Finally, we had finished up and the waitress was getting our check.
"So, thank you for coming to dinner with me."
"Thank you for taking me."
"Bet your girl wouldn't approve."
"My girl doesn't know. And I could say the same about your husband."
"Yeah....you could. But neither are here, so I guess it doesn't matter, huh?"
"Nope."
"Nothing that happens tonight matters then, I guess."
Well, what Georgie or Allison's husband didn't know, wouldn't hurt them.
Allison paid the bill and we headed out to her car. I held her door open for her and she laughed and said, "Such a gentleman!"
I slid into the driver's seat (literally AND figuratively) and started it up. I have to admit, that was a pretty sweet ride (that's what SHE said! Whoa!). Soon, we were pulling into her driveway and then walking up to her front door.
When we got up to the front door, Allison unlocked it and turned to me and said, "Well, thank you for a wonderful evening. Good night!"
She went inside laughed, and said, "Oh, come on and get in here!"
I obeyed and went inside. She smiled and said, "Well? You gonna kiss me?"
"You sure?"
"It's been over a year, honey. I'm sure."
I leaned down and we started kissing. I felt her hands going up and down my back and I slid my hands down her sides and grabbed her ass and squeezed.
She pulled away a bit and said, "You can play with that all you want."
We walked over to the couch and kissed a little more.
Then she pulled away and sank down to her knees and unzipped my pants. She pulled my hard cock out and wrapped her lips around it started blowing me.
This woman was G-O-O-D. No, she was G-R-E-A-T.
I made that extra copy of that photo set for Allison and charged Greggy-Face for my time. And despite the overall prickness that he almost always displayed, there was one thing he was great at: paying, and paying well. And he never questioned what he was billed for--or contested what he was billed for, I should say.
Despite that, I still loved doing his wife when I had the chance. Hey, at least I didn't charge him for THAT, right?
When the pics were done, I called Allison to let her know. I could have mailed them, but figured that since I was an awesome guy, I'd offer to drop them off at her office, which was located in Placentia, not far from where Greg's new store and temporary office was. If nothing else, I could try and look down her top or something. Besides, it was a Friday and I didn't have a date--Georgie, my girlfriend, was working. Maybe getting a shot of some cleavage would get me through the night.
Yes, I'm that pathetic.
I drove down to the O.C. and dropped a set off to Greg. I handed him my invoice and he looked at it and said, "Two sets?"
"Allison wanted a set."
"Okay, that's fine. Thanks Ryan."
He then handed me a check for my services. Like I said, the dude would spend money. Cheap he was not.
"Thanks, Greg."
"Oh, I'll need you to drive down to Encintas to take some pictures of a couple of houses I just bought. Here's the addresses and the keys. No rush, I just need them in the next week or so."
"No problem."
I was pleasantly surprised by his good mood. Maybe he was fucking that barista chick at the coffee store across the street.
I had tried to get to know her better, but had certainly failed miserably. But I do remember one time a couple of weeks later when he and I went to grab some coffee and she really seemed to like him. A lot. It appeared mutual.
There's no accounting for taste, I guess. Hey, if she wanted to git down wit Greg rather than ride the Ryan Railway, that's just how it be. I mean, if that really was the case.
But that's neither here nor there nor anywhere.
I got into my car and drove up to Placentia. When I got to her office, I went in and told the receptionist that I was there to see Allison. The receptionist--who I most assuredly did NOT want to poach--was very nice and showed me to her office.
She smiled and told me to grab a chair. The receptionist left and Allison and I went over the pictures and talked for about half an hour, getting periodically interrupted by phone calls.
We lost track of time after the phone stopped ringing around five. Her receptionist left and we kept talking. Finally, she looked up at the clock.
"Wow. Six. Lost track of time. Hope I didn't keep you from your girlfriend."
"No. She's working tonight. The whole weekend, in fact."
"Huh. So, you guys serious? Just dating? None of my business, but just wondering."
"Not serious at all."
Well, Georgie might have been, but I wasn't.
"Huh."
"What?"
"Well, hubby's out of town. Care to join a lady for dinner? My treat."
"Love to."
"Ever been to the Cask n' Cleaver?"
"Yeah, the one in Rancho."
You know where the one in San Dimas is?
"Yeah."
"That sound good?"
"Definitely."
"Definitely."
She called and made a reservation for 8:00.
"Cool. We have our reservation. We'll get there a little early, but we can have a couple of drinks if we have to wait."
We went out to the parking lot and she said, "Follow me, honey."
Fuck yeah, baby! A great dinner, drinks, and a hot married blonde lady! Friday nights are awesome!
Then she turned around and walked back over.
"Hey, mind if I ask a favor?"
Yes, I'll fuck you. Name the time...
"Not at all."
"I live in Glendora. Would you mind if I dropped my car off at home and you could take me over to Cask 'n Cleaver? I want to have a few drinks to unwind and don't want to drive."
"No problem."
"Okay, follow me. If I lose you, and I won't, I'll wait for you on the strip mall off of Calora. Just take the Arrow exit."
"That's fine. I know the area."
Glendora isn't far from San Dimas at all, so it wasn't exactly a huge favor. She did give me her home number and address just in case we totally lost each other.
Back in the dark ages, kids, we didn't have cell phones. We used telephones that we couldn't use to take pictures of our special private parts (or anything else). That's right--all we could use them for was talking and listening.
Which was fine, except that installing apps was a bitch.
I didn't lose her, though. I followed her up to her house and pulled into the driveway. Allison came up to me and said, "Just pull into the garage. If I have a few too many, you can just drive my car back here."
I remember hoping that that wasn't the only garage I'd be pulling into that night! Whoa!
Okay, so the scorecard was reading: dinner and drinks at the Cask, an insanely hot married blonde, and the possibility of driving a Mercedes back.
Friday nights are awesome!
And this one was about to get even more awesome. I mean, c'mon, after three years of no poachette entries, you think I'd write about a lady I DIDN'T boink?
I pulled into her garage (snicker) and then got into her car and we drove over. We got there a little after 7:00 and it looked pretty busy. So we checked in and then went and found an empty table in the bar.
Allison ordered some wine--and smiled at the server and said, "Just leave the bottle." I ordered a Long Island iced tea. Allison also ordered a couple of appetizers.
After Allison had ordered the bottle of wine--she drank that thing down as we waited for a table--I knew she'd be in no condition to drive home. Wine isn't a hardcore type of liquor, but it'll still get you buzzed enough. And that was fine. I knew, however, that I would need to limit my drinks to two.
I've always been a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I totally admit it. I can't handle it physically. If I drink too much, I get sick. As in throwing up sick. I learned my limits regarding alcohol early in life. Too much just doesn't agree with me.
Don't get me wrong. I've been drunk plenty of times. And it doesn't take much, and it always ends up with me calling Ralph on the porcelain phone. I have to stay in "Buzzed Basement" rather than the "Plastered Parlor".
Hey, good stuff. That line alone was worth waiting three years for, huh?
No?
Anyway, I finished my drink off and, of course, was feeling fine. I figured we'd be there until at least 9:30, so I had another.
And mercy, I was feeling good.
Around 8:30, Allison and I were taken to our table. It was actually a cozy little corner booth. Seriously, could this night get better?
Uhhhhhhhhh YAHHHHHH.....
Allison was on her second bottle of wine and we ordered our dinners. I ordered the New York Strip steak and Allison ordered the salmon. After ordering, we went up to the salad bar--endless trips, mind you--and started loading up our plates.
Allison stumbled a little reaching for a topping. She looked at me and said, "Hope you enjoy driving my Benz."
Around 9:00, Allison was pretty, uh, relaxed. Not drunk, but definitely mellow.
She talked about her marriage. Typical story. A lady stuck in a boring marriage. The sex had slowed down. She loved her husband and cared about him but....
We talked about work and a lot of other things. Finally, we had finished up and the waitress was getting our check.
"So, thank you for coming to dinner with me."
"Thank you for taking me."
"Bet your girl wouldn't approve."
"My girl doesn't know. And I could say the same about your husband."
"Yeah....you could. But neither are here, so I guess it doesn't matter, huh?"
"Nope."
"Nothing that happens tonight matters then, I guess."
Well, what Georgie or Allison's husband didn't know, wouldn't hurt them.
Allison paid the bill and we headed out to her car. I held her door open for her and she laughed and said, "Such a gentleman!"
When poaching, ALWAYS show good manners.
I slid into the driver's seat (literally AND figuratively) and started it up. I have to admit, that was a pretty sweet ride (that's what SHE said! Whoa!). Soon, we were pulling into her driveway and then walking up to her front door.
When we got up to the front door, Allison unlocked it and turned to me and said, "Well, thank you for a wonderful evening. Good night!"
She went inside laughed, and said, "Oh, come on and get in here!"
I obeyed and went inside. She smiled and said, "Well? You gonna kiss me?"
"You sure?"
"It's been over a year, honey. I'm sure."
I leaned down and we started kissing. I felt her hands going up and down my back and I slid my hands down her sides and grabbed her ass and squeezed.
She pulled away a bit and said, "You can play with that all you want."
We walked over to the couch and kissed a little more.
Then she pulled away and sank down to her knees and unzipped my pants. She pulled my hard cock out and wrapped her lips around it started blowing me.
This woman was G-O-O-D. No, she was G-R-E-A-T.
She deep-throated me several times, worked her tongue all over my shaft and head, and alternated between jacking me off and playing with my balls. She clearly loved sucking cock. And I clearly loved how she clearly loved sucking cock.
As if the visual of this gorgeous lady sucking my cock wasn't enough, it got even better. I looked down and saw her hand up her skirt, moving fast on her pussy. I love multi-tasking.
A couple of minutes into this incredible blowjob, she took her mouth off my cock, lowered her head, groaned loudly and said, "Oh fuck..." and looked up and smiled. Then she went back to her original task, much to my delight.
My brain really wasn't working at full capacity (as if it ever truly works at full capacity), but I do remember thinking how I really wanted to go the extra mile with this lady. I wanted to give her back everything she was giving me, times ten. I mean, man....
It didn't take long before Mr. Happy was notifying me that blast-off was imminent. Through my groaning, I managed to grunt out, "I'm gonna cum, Allison."
She took her mouth off of my cock and started jacking me off.
"C'mon sweetheart.....shoot it.....cum for me.....spray it all over me......"
And I did. A LOT. All over her white blouse. She just laughed.
As if the visual of this gorgeous lady sucking my cock wasn't enough, it got even better. I looked down and saw her hand up her skirt, moving fast on her pussy. I love multi-tasking.
A couple of minutes into this incredible blowjob, she took her mouth off my cock, lowered her head, groaned loudly and said, "Oh fuck..." and looked up and smiled. Then she went back to her original task, much to my delight.
It didn't take long before Mr. Happy was notifying me that blast-off was imminent. Through my groaning, I managed to grunt out, "I'm gonna cum, Allison."
She took her mouth off of my cock and started jacking me off.
"C'mon sweetheart.....shoot it.....cum for me.....spray it all over me......"
And I did. A LOT. All over her white blouse. She just laughed.
"I guess I'll have to soak this in Woolite before taking this to the dry cleaner.....can you imagine taking it this in as IS?"
That really gave her the giggles. The thought of it did the same to me.
"Just tell him you fell into a carrot cake."
More laughing. Then she looked at Mr. Happy.
"No way you're still hard. After THAT?"
"Well, consider it tribute."
"Well, of course! And tribute THIS."
Allison wrapped her mouth around my cock and sucked me for another minute. Then she stood up, kissed me, and said, "C'mon, let's go to the bedroom."
We walked into the bedroom and she flipped on the lights and said, "Welcome to the most boring bedroom in the world. Care to help me change that?"
Hey, whatever I could do to help, right?
She took off her blouse and bra and revealed a sensational pair of tits. The pics I have don't do them justice. If you've seen
"Uh, yeah. Here's the thing. You have to take your clothes off too, sweetie."
"Oh, yeah, okay."
She laughed and I started taking off my shirt. As I was taking off my pants, I saw her sliding her skirt off. She was wearing a pair of light blue panties. Well, the dry part was light blue.
"You know that it's rude to stare, right?"
We finished stripping down and she said, "Lights on or lights off?"
"No way do I want those lights off. No way."
"I'm flattered."
She smiled and walked to the bed and laid down and then pointed at the bed.
"Get over here. Or you could stand there with your dick saluting me. Kinda flattering!"
I went over and crawled on top of this awesome woman and we started kissing and running our hands all over each other. I can still feel her soft hands sliding up and down my back.
I kissed my way down to her breasts. I was pretty anxious to start going down on her, but I definitely wanted to spend a little time getting to know this part of her anatomy.
I spent several minutes sucking her hard nipples and feeling her run her hand through my hair. Then I kissed my way down her stomach and worked my way down to her wet pussy.
I proceeded to start eating her out. I must have been really on my game that night--it took between a minute to two minutes for her to start moaning and writhing and having a nice gi-nour-mous orgasm.
Of course, it doesn't hurt when the lady you're going down on is already 90 percent there to begin with.
"Oh, that felt great honey....."
"You were pretty much there, I just helped push you over."
"Hmmmmmm....maybe....still....."
"You ever been fucked for an hour?"
"You mean like sixty minutes in a row?"
"Uh huh."
"Not even close."
"Could you take that?"
"Yeah, but no way you can fuck for an hour without coming. C'mon."
"Challenge accepted. Get on your hands and knees."
"Not buying this, sweetie. But it'll be fun to have you try."
Okay, she was giggling. She didn't believe me.
I've mentioned many times in entries on this blog that I really have trouble cumming in the doggy position. I can, but I have to really make an effort, as weird as that sounds. Ironically, it's my favorite positing to cum in a woman. But for whatever reason, it's takes some concentration.
But as weird as it is, this little trait comes in very handy, obviously. And it was about to come in really handy.
I looked at the clock. 11:15.
Time to fuck this lady until the morning comes. There's got to be a morrrrrrrrniiiiiiiinggggggg after.........
"Be right back. Have to run out to the car."
"Why?"
"Condoms."
"No need. You can cum in me, don't worry."
Later, she would tell me that she used a diaphragm.
I got up behind her and slid right in. That felt sooooo good. She groaned in agreement.
So did I make it? No. But that's because SHE tapped out after about thirty five minutes.
She pulled off and said, "You win. I believe you. Uncle!"
"You're giving up? Only twenty five minutes to go."
"Yeah, I'm a little sensitive down there now. That happens when you cum a hundred times."
I wasn't counting, but I'm pretty sure that she was exaggerating. But don't get me wrong--she came more than a few times.
To be honest, I was kind of relieved when she had enough. It isn't easy staying in the same position like that for an hour. After awhile, your back gets a little tired. At least mine did. I could have made it, though (I had before and have since).
Allison laid down on her back and grabbed her breasts.
"Slide it right here, sweetie."
TITTY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!
TITTY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!
TITTY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!
TITTY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!
TITTY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!
Sorry.
I straddled her chest and slid Mr. Motherfucking Happy between her breasts. She pushed those beauties together and in a couple of minutes I was unloading another, uh, load of cum all over her chest.
Don't worry. Her diaphragm would eventually be put to good use. Just not this time.
We kissed for awhile and then got up and took a nice, long shower (fuck you, Wozniack-ass).
Then we headed to her hot tub and eased in and started consuming greyhounds. We stayed in there for a couple of hours, drinking, talking, and relaxing. Right before we got out to head for bed, she asked a question.
"I know your girlfriend's working, but you have any other plans for the rest of the weekend? Care to stay? Hubby won't be back until Monday afternoon."
"No plans. I'd love to stay."
"Cool! Let's head to bed. You wore me out."
I watched Allison's ass as she walked down to the hall to the bedroom and went out to retrieve my O.P.M.W.K. (Overnight Poaching Married Women Kit) from my car. This sophisticated kit contained condoms (not needed this time), lube (for taking these lucky ladies to the Pilot), a few sex toys, as well as a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and razor.
I'm like an adult x-rated boy scout: I'm always prepared.
Of course, at this point, we were both pretty hammered. I eventually made my way back to the bedroom and saw her stretched out, spread eagle.
"I think I'm drunk. That or I'm really floating above the bed."
Well, she wasn't floating. And neither was I. But, through the never-ending hard-ons of youth, I was hard again.
Never let a hard-on go to waste.
I flopped down on the bed and my head accidentally on purpose landed right in front of her pussy. Hey, lucky me! Might as well take advantage of that landing spot!
I started eating her out, taking my time, and trying to make her cum again. I think she was all cummed out, though, because after a couple of minutes I heard her say, "Get up here and fuck me!"
Sorry to say, this was not my best work. I was pretty fucked up and managed to crawl on top of her and slide in and out for a few minutes. Then I dropped my very light payload.
Totally selfish fuck for me. Allison was done. But she didn't mind taking care of me one last time. That was cool.
The last thing I remember of that night is rolling off her and giving her a kiss and her turning off the light. I don't even remember what time we passed out.
I woke up around 11 the next morning. Head was going "bah-boomba! bah-boomba!"
Oh goody. A hangover. Oh well, small price to pay--not that that was what I was thinking at the time. I could hear the shower going in the bathroom and looked at the nightstand and discovered a glass of water and some Excedrin waiting for me.
Oh, and a shot glass full of what turned out to be whiskey--hair of the dog that bit me. Nice Allison. Nicely done. I wasn't all into hard liquor (unless it was hidden in a Long Island iced tea), but I gulped down the shot, and then swallowed the aspirin and downed the whole glass of water and leaned back down on the bed.
A couple of minutes later, Allison came in from the shower.
"Hey, get my good morning present?"
"Yes...and thank you."
"My pleasure. I have taken the liberty of ordering us brunch from Waterchase. It'll be here in about half an hour. I figured we'd eat out on the back porch and get our strength back!"
Okay, this woman wasn't hungover at all. The whiskey, aspirin, and water were helping me, but not as much as they were helping her.
Oh, Waterchase. That was a small food service business that catered to very well-off folks, like Allison. I hadn't heard of it until I met Allison (hey, if there was an In 'N Out around, I was fine).
The aching in my head subsided enough so that I could move without crying. I got out of bed, got a kiss from Allison, and went into the bathroom.
Fucking A. I mean....fucking A.
That room was huge. Jacuzzi-style bathtub. Huge vanity with two sinks. The walls were covered with a beautiful tile that Allison would later tell me had been imported from France.
And the shower.
Eight shower heads. EIGHT. Four on the wall, four coming down from the ceiling. It was the greatest shower ever.
It was tremendous and awesome as well as awesome and tremendous.
I had been showering for a good fifteen minutes (shove it, Wozni-wackass) when Allison popper her head in and said, "Brunch is served!"
Attractive, rich women rock!
And so did this spread! Waffles, eggs, sausage, bacon, French toast, pancakes...... I did eat well, I did I did!
We had a nice hour and half or so breakfast out on her patio. Allison was a blast just to hang out and talk to. Eventually, my hangover completely--and thankfully--faded away.
No hangovers, great brunch, hot barely-clothed blonde, horny poacher.....of course that all adds up to lots more sex.
And numbers never lie, right?
Allison and I spent the day fucking, eating, swimming and napping. That night, we headed over to a steakhouse and had another great dinner.
And we kept fucking, eating great food, and drinking until Monday morning.
Allison turned out to be far more than a friend with benefits. We ended up taking trips together to Vegas and San Diego. Always had a blast with her.
She was a "drop everything" poachette. If I had plans with Georgie or another lady, if Allison wanted to get together, I'd make changes (if possible, of course).
Allison also helped me earn a ton of money by hooking me up with photography and legal assignments. Money, sex, great food, some weekend trips....can't complain about that.
We would meet at her house--her husband was a big-time sales executive who luckily did a lot of traveling--my place, and motels. The motels were especially handy for when Georgie and Allison's husband were at home. We'd just give them the old "out of town, sorry, it's business" line and spend a couple of days going at it.
And there were several times when we'd go at it on the couch in her office after her staff had gone home.
But all good things.....
In October of 1988, we were at my place, cuddled up after another great fuck-a-thon. Allison looked at me and said, "I have some kinda bad news....kinda good news...."
"What is it?"
"Had an insane offer to sell my business."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'm done. Want to do something else. And I'm going to call it quits with Mike (her husband)."
"Wow."
"That's not all. Hate to tell you.....I've had sooooo much fun with you.....after everything's wrapped up with Mike and my business....I'm heading down to the Keys."
I was kind of hoping to be invited to move down with her. I'm not sure what I would have said. But I knew she wouldn't. She had an ex-boyfriend down there. They had met up when she was down there on a mini-vacation a few months earlier and had, to quote, "five days of hard fucking".
Obviously, I wasn't considered to be a long-term solution. It was what it was.
So in February of 1988, with her amicable divorce (both had pre-nups) going through, Allison and I had one last goodbye fuck and she left for the Florida Keys. She asked that we not stay in touch. She wanted to make things work with Rich. I didn't like it, but agreed.
By the way, she kept taking my "Hour Fuck Challenges". She never could last a full hour, but most of the time she could reach the forty-minute mark. She also, of course, received many trips to the Pilot. You should have seen how many frequent flier miles she ran up!
Here's where I say how much I liked her, was glad she was doing what she wanted, and what a great poachette she was.
And all that's true.
But time to drop a little extra knowledge on you about your favorite poacher. And it involves this blonde uber-beauty.
My first birthday after she left, I heard a knock on the door. I answered it and found two gentlemen at the door. "Hello, is Ryan Callahan at home?" said one.
"That's me."
He handed me a card, a big envelope, and a couple of keys.
I looked at the keys and said, "What's going on?"
The other guy said, "Don't know. Just told to deliver this card and that truck to this address. And we need you to sign this."
I signed the form. It was from a local car dealership.
I thanked them and they left. I opened the card.
"Hey! Happy Birthday, sweetheart! I'm down here in FL! It's great! I'm starting up a new business--NOT insurance! Getting along great with Rich! I know I said that we need to make a clean break. So I lied. NOW we can make a clean break! You deserve this! You were such a great friend and I wanted to show you my appreciation for all the fun. I know that you were looking at the Rangers and thought, well, why not? Have fun with it! No need to thank me--remember your promise. Besides, I should be thanking you. I hope all goes well.
Take care of yourself!
Allison"
I went downstairs and looked at my new Ford Ranger. Black. I opened the door and got in. Fully stocked. Sound system. Gorgeous tan leather interior. I was afraid to even start it. But I did.
I turned it off and got back out. The bed of the truck had a black shell on it and the bed itself had been fully carpeted (this was something I had mentioned to Allison I would have done if I did actually buy truck in the future). Tan carpeting. Perfect.
I spent the rest of the day getting it insured and registered. Those were errands I did not mind doing.
It didn't stop there. No, no more vehicles showed up at my door.
One day, I got a call from a lawyer in the area. He had heard of me from a friend of his named "Allison Grayson".
Allison was the one who encouraged me to strike out on my own, and not join a law firm or corporation.
We were in San Diego and had just finished a marathon session and were catching our breath.
"So....when you graduate from La Verne....what's next?"
"Go work for a law firm I guess."
"Why not freelance? I don't get you being a big-time corporate guy. I should know. I tried it. I hated it. So fifteen years ago, I took all my savings and started me agency. Worth every second I put into it."
"Maybe I should think about that."
"Yeah. Maybe you should."
I did. And I liked it. I took her suggestions--marketed my services, compiled a portfolio, worked as a contract employee, took gigs with legal temp services--and eventually, it worked out pretty well.
I've never broken my promise. I've never contacted her. If she wanted to talk, she obviously knows how to find me. She knew when I was in Ohio. She knew when I was in Florida. And she knows that I'm in Atlanta.
Of course, she's kept track of me through the internet. At least, that's the most logical explanation.
And I know where she is, too. And I know what her business entails--which, shockingly, is a major success. And I know what she looks like (still gorgeous at 70--I'd do her again in a heartbeat; she looks like she hasn't aged a bit).
And I know that she's been married to Rich for around 26 years. And I know that she loves boating, running, working out, and her dogs and still digs Eric Clapton (who doesn't?) and has seen him in concert many times.
And I know that she loves spending the occasional weekend in Miami with her husband. And I know that she can still rock shorts. And I know that she loves her Miami Hurricanes and Miami Dolphins. And I know that she takes kick-ass pictures of the Keys.
Two can play at that game, Allison.
For Allison's pics, click here (members only)..
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