Afternoon At The Flea Market Ch. 1

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Cliff wandered through the flea market looking for nothing in particular. And that was what he found, nothing. It was a good way as any to relax from a busy week at the restaurant.

Cliff stopped at a booth selling used videos. It had a collection of everything from Bambi to Wall Street. A box on the back counter said “Adults Only.”

Cliff rummaged through the box because he loved the way they corrupted names of major movies to title porno’s. His favorite was “Bright Lights, Big Titties. ” He had to admit that it did contain the latter half of the title.

Cliff found a treasure in the bottom. It was an almost complete set of the “Debbie Does Dallas” series. Only number four was missing. Below that, was one called “Home Implements.” The package blurb said it was about a man who had a TV show that explained how to use tools around the house.

Cliff could not pass that up. He forked over the ten dollars and the clerk bagged the movie. He walled around the rest of the market.

He found a booth that had old hand tools. Cliff could not draw a straight line with a T-Square. He did admire anyone who could make things. His greatest moment was when he made his computer desk using one of those kits where every thing was supplied and you just put the precut parts together.

Cliff was exploring the boxes of wood planes, screwdrivers and handsaws when a whiff of musk invaded his nose. He found a tall woman in painted on Levi’s and a cowboy shirt tied just under her tits. Her long dark brown hair framed a face wearing black plastic glasses. Somehow, the look worked for her.

Cliff noticed her read the box description of his movie. That she held in her left hand. She held an item Cliff remembered from his grandmother in her right hand. It was a dark brown, almost black, wooden orb with a wood handle. It was a darning egg like granny used to repair socks. It was called that because it was shaped like a chicken egg. He smiled at the memories of his grandparents.

The brunette smiled as she read the box. Her other hand fondled the darning egg. That was the only way Cliff could describe what she did to it. She noticed Cliff looking at her.

“I’m sorry, the title just caught my eye. I had to read the box,” she said with a voice straight from the southwest panhandle.

“That’s okay, I enjoy the real show. The only difference between Tim and myself, is I never glued my head to a table.”

Her laughter was like the bells of an Arizona mission, pure, loud and musical. Her kütahya escort eyes sparkled and it was not the lens of her glasses.

The cowgirl returned my movie and looked at the darning egg. She took it to the man behind the counter and bought it. She had the look of not knowing quite why she did. She smiled at me. I watched her walk out of the booth. She turned and waved.

I resumed my rounds. I walked by the snack bar. The cow gal sat with a drink looking at the egg. She had the look I know I had many time at one of these places. “Now that I have it, what is it for?”

She looked up and saw me. She waved me over to join her.

“Excuse me, but could tell me what in the hell this thing is?”

The sound of sagebrush and tumbleweeds.

“That is a darning egg.”

That lost her. She was a city girl who never had to repair socks, she just replaced them. She was not alone. I have seen many darning eggs used as Easter decorations.

“Does that mean you cuss at it instead of people?”

“The world would be better off it that was its purpose. It is, rather was, used to sew socks.”


She was perfect for John Ford and John Wayne movies. I went to the counter to get a drink and a napkin. I tore out the center of the napkin.

“When you wear a hole in a sock, there are two ways of fixing them. One way, and the easiest, is to fold the fabric over like this and sewing it.

Cliff demonstrated what he meant. The lady looked at the sample and felt it.

“Wouldn’t this rub on the foot?”

“Yes, it would cause blisters. That is where darning eggs help.

“You hold the egg inside the sock under the hole. Then you weave,” Cliff demonstrated, “thread until you have a smooth patch.”

She smiled and the sound of mission bells returned.

“Oh! I thought it was some kind of, well sex toy.”

The lady held the egg straight up by the handle. Cliff felt a bit of heat in his cheeks. It was not what she said but the way she held the egg that caught him off guard and slightly embarrassing. He took a drink.

“My daddy always told me that if your are talking about sex with a lady, you should at least know her name.

“I’m Cliff, who are you and what part of Oklahoma are you from?”

“I’m Sharolyn from Muskogee.

“Most people think I’m a Texan.”

“I’ve worked in restaurants all my life and I can tell what part of the country people are from. I can even tell what parts of Europe malatya escort tourists are from. I have to, to get their food orders right.”

They talked. Lyn said she and her husband were in town for a square dance round up. He got a call ordering him to London for business. Lyn stayed in town but it was no fun without a partner. She kept looking at an touching the darning egg.

“You actually thought it was a sex toy? Like a dildo?”

“More like a hand powered vibrator.”

“No woman could be penetrated by that. My wife couldn’t”

Cliff had mentioned her earlier. It was more of a reminder to himself.

“I could.”

Cliff thought back to the view he had of her ass in those jeans. There was now way she could use the egg as she said. But there was no way to know.

“Okay, Lyn. I’ll take your word for it.”

“I don’t want you to take my word. I want you to see for yourself.”

“You want me to watch you masturbate with that?”

Lyn leaned over. Her breathing became fast and shallow. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on her lip and forehead.

” I want you to tape it.”

“Tape it?”

“Yes, Cliff. And you get to keep the tape.”

That exchange had two affects. Lyn talked herself into an orgasm and Cliff got rock hard.

Lyn reached under the table. She felt his cock growing along his legs. His pants became wet with his precum.

“Cliff, have you ever had sex with you wife while someone watched? Phil and I do it often.

“We invite this one couple over to our house about twice a month. Our bed is in the middle of the room so people can stand anywhere and see what excites them the most. All we require is that no one interferes. When finished, we watch them. We remodeled the bath to have an extra large shower, which we all share at the end. Of course, we tape everything.”

The mental vision of Lyn in bed having sex, and her hand on his cock was too much. His eyes closed as he emptied into his pants. Lyn felt it.

“Oh, now you have to come to my room. You need to clean up.”

Cliff stepped out of the hotel room shower. He found Sharolyn still dressed. She walked to him and stroked his member. It hardened.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m paying the photographer.”

Lyn handed Cliff a mask. She told him to put it on.

“Unless you want people to know it was you who picked me up. This will be your tape remember.”

Lyn led him to the bed. On the headboard were manisa escort a video camera and a small TV with a built in VCR. Cliff understood she was making two tapes.

“Yeah, I want a copy too.”

She made sure everything was right. She led Cliff back to the bathroom and started the taping with remotes.

Lyn led Cliff to the bed by holding his cock. She laid him in the predetermined spot. The camera was directly over Cliff’s head.

“That’s why I made you come earlier. I want to make this last.”

Lyn slowly took Cliff into her mouth. She just nipped at the opening in the tip of his dick. The contact caused him to give her pre-cum. She licked it off with the tip of her tongue. Lyn did not take the whole length into her mouth. She did not want to. She wanted to play with his cockhead.

Cliff felt the bed shake. It wasn’t him. He thought Lyn was cumming. Eh looked he saw she was naked. She was standing over him, playing with her clit. Lyn brought herself to orgasm, dripping her juices on him. He now smelled her sex.

Cliff wanted relief.

“God, woman, I need to cum.”

Sharolyn positioned her dripping womanness over his spear. Using her hands for the first time, she put him to her gateway.

“Inhale,” she told Cliff.

He did. She relaxed her legs and impaled herself on his bayonet. The pleasure of the pain started them both on the way. Their hips moved to the oldest dance know to humans.

Cliff sat up. He bit her right nipple.

“Harder, I want you to leave marks. I want to feel your teeth on my soft breasts.”

All this stimuli pushed Cliff to the point of explosion. When he came, only his shoulders and feet remained on the bed. His arched back lifted Lyn off the bed. Lyn thought his cock would rupture her bladder, it went in so deep. The combined juices flowed down his shaft, down his balls and onto the bed.

Cliff woke to find Sharolyn sleeping on his chest. She just fell forward. His dick was still hard enough to stay in her. He lifted his legs a bit so she would not slide off him. He wanted to stay in her as long as possible. She woke and smiled at him.

“Hi. You still here?” she said with a smile.

“Sure. I still have to tape you with the darning eggs.”

Lyn moved her hips trying to make Cliff harder. She was so wet, he fell out with the first movement. It was like uncorking a bottle. The love cocktail emptied onto the bed.

“You were right. I could never get that thing inside me.”

“Then why all the games to get me here?”

“Would you have come with me if I just said ‘I want you to fuck me’?”

Cliff smiled. Then he rolled Lyn over into a dry spot on the bed. With his tongue in her mouth and his fingers in her pussy, he decided not to leave until every inch of bed sheet was wet.

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