Nurse Katrina

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I fell off a roof this summer trying to fix a leak a girl I was hoping to screw. The good news is that I didn’t die — I actually landed on my feet. The bad news? I shattered the bones in both feet and ankles that forced me to take a real long rest on the couch, totally dependent on anyone willing to help me.

I needed help with everything. My mother came by every morning to make me coffee and talk my ear off. My fat assed sister in her latex gym clothes took the evening shift. She usually made me a tv dinner and cleaned up my living space. The two of them spent so much time waiting on me that now they wanted to delegate the task to anyone who will take it. I mean, they had lives of their own. Distant aunts and old neighbors started to show up at the door to check on me and bring me groceries. “We are going to have to hire someone to help out,” my mom said. “Not a nurse really, but some kind of companion.”

All of this leads me to Katrina. Many years ago, while still in high school, my sister had a friend named Katrina. I remembered painful sleepover parties with her in shortie pajamas in my living room watching television with our family. I sat with a pillow in my lap and a hard-on pushing against my pants. She was the first girl around to hit puberty and grow tits, the first one to have sex and then the only one in our small town to break every sexual taboo, one by one. Even guys in my grade were fucking her. Eventually my sister decided Katrina was too much of a slut and stopped inviting around. I’d heard that put a homemade video tape online of herself and two guys at our high school playground. They sat on swings, jeans unzipped, and she kneeled in the mulch between them and sucked them off, one by one, back and forth. I heard she made out with a girl at a big party right on the couch on the main room. Katrina crawled on top and pushed this chick’s dress and thong out of the way and finger banged her while they kissed, a crowd surrounding them and filming it all on their phones. Someone told they fucked her in the back of a van parked in a Walmart parking lot. She was blindfolded and there was a guy with an accent there, inviting strangers into the van and giving her away. I had no idea if any of it were true but it was sweet masturbation material.

One time in high school when I was arguing with my little sister in the kitchen, I grabbed her wrist. “Oooh,” Katrina cooed. “You’re turning me on. Grab my wrist.” Her face was pure porn.

“You’re a freak,” my sister said. “Stop flirting with my brother.”

I was so intimidated that I hid in my room, stroking myself to the memory of her aroused face, imagining Katrina with both wrists pinned to the bed while I fucked her….

Presently, Katrina knocked at my front door and let herself in. I hadn’t seen her in the flesh for ten years at least, but this was the companion my family found for me. In her arms she held a paper sack of groceries — a six pack of beer, a bag of tortilla chips and a plastic container of berries. That’s what she thought to bring for dinner. She wore a tight little red skirt. Long straight black hair, dark eyes like a doll, two handfuls of natural tits and long, tan legs. Her legs were ridiculous, so smooth and evenly brown. She looked like I remembered her, young and smooth, but even more confident than before. She even looked innocent, scrubbed clean and sun-dappled, but I knew better.

“Do you remember me?” she asked. I thought, Um, yeah, I’ve been jerking off to the image of you on your knees in the back of a van sucking anonymous cock for a pretty long time now, but I said, “You’re Katrina, right?” gaziantep escort bayan and straightened myself up on the couch.

“That’s right! I’m your sister’s friend from school. I ran into her and she told me about your accident. I told her I was looking for work and she said that was funny, she was looking to hire someone a few days a week to come over here and make you comfortable. Beer?” She pulled a cold bottle from the bag and twisted off the cap. I took it. “I told her that it sounded like just my thing. I’m really good at taking care of people.”

She had an expression of “poor baby” on her gorgeous face, her bottom lip pushed out. She reached out and patted my knee. “That really sucks that you were hurt so bad. I can’t believe you have to sit around all day. Do you get super bored?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I’m ready to get back to doing things, you know?”

“You must be bored. Do you have any fantasies to entertain yourself with?” She sat at the edge of the coffee table, her legs slightly parted.

I said no, because I was too shy to say the words. I’ve never been good at dirty talk.

“Oh God, I would probably sit around and think about sex all day. Just masturbate a lot,” she said.

I asked about her to tell me about her fantasies. I’m sure I was blushing or looking uncomfortable. “Oh, they’re too dirty,” she said. “You’d think I was a slut if I told you.”

“I already think you’re a slut,” I said jokingly.

She frowned. “I don’t actually think you are kidding. You know, I think a woman can enjoy sex and not be a slut. If I was a guy I would be a stud,” she complained.

“No judgments from me,” I said.

She arched her back and threw back her hair. She took in a deep breath and looked me in the face. “Well,” she said, “If you really want to know, sometimes I imagine that I’m in a movie theatre, like a triple X kind of place in Times Square. I’m sitting in the front row and I’m getting really into the movie, so into it that I just have to play with play myself. I lean back in the chair and close my eyes and I spread my legs. I don’t even think about all the men that are in the theatre. Then I feel a hand come behind me and gab my tit, but I don’t even open my eyes to see who it is. I just lean back and let this guy cop a feel. And then a different hand grabs my other breast and pinches my nipple. Hard. It turns me on, so many hands, I don’t even know what belongs to who. I just close my eyes. Some guys are skanky and old but I don’t even care — I’m so horny! I’m leaned back in my seat with a mouth sucking my pussy and a cock in both hands….”

“Oh, wait!” Her eyes widened. “Look at this! Someone has a hard on.”

I shifted in my seat and tried rather slyly to pull a blanket over myself. She pushed it out of the way.

“Maybe I am a slut and maybe you like it.” She stood before me and rolled up her skirt. I saw there were no panties, just flesh and hair trimmed into the shape of a heart. She had the kind of pussy where the pink labia hangs low, constantly exposed. It had been there all along, so barely covered as she shopped for beer and sat across from me on the coffee table.

She held herself just slightly out of reach and asked if I wanted to touch her. I held out my upturned fingers and she backed away, just a step.

“Aw, don’t be tease,” I laughed.

“Tell you what, you tell me one of your fantasies and I’ll let you touch me.”

“Well, um, I haven’t been that wild. I don’t have good stories.”

“Have you had a ménage a trios?” she asked. I looked at the floor. “No.” That didn’t even seem like a big deal but I’d never been confident enough to initiate such a thing. I’d always played it safe and tried to show respect to the women I’d been with. There was a huge disconnect between what turned me on most and what I would actually ask for in bed.

“Have you been with another boy?” she asked “No!” I choked. “God, no!”

“Anal?” she asked.

“Um, not really.”

“Not really? What does that mean?”

“I tried with a girlfriend once but her asshole was too small.” Even the word asshole felt aggressive coming out of my mouth.

“Or maybe your cock was too big.” She took a step closer and leaned in, caressing my stiff dick through my clothes. “In any case, it is meant to be a tight squeeze. That’s the beauty of it.” She cocked her head to one side like she was thinking. “Would you want me to show you?”

I have to be honest: I haven’t been with a lot of women. My last girlfriend left me for a pompous douche bag after I treated her to a trip to Jamaica. I’m a nice guy and I’ve had a few girls, all of them cute and sexy enough, who’ve made me cum. Just vanilla stuff – fucking in hotel room beds and hot tubs, sometimes doggy style, sometimes me on top. An occasional blow job here and there when offered. I didn’t really know what to do with a girl like this. I didn’t know what to say to her or how to turn her on but I didn’t want her to stop.

“Can you pull down your pants a little?” she asked.

I shimmied them down and my cock sprung out embarrassingly, achingly hard.

“Aw,” she said, leaning over. “Look at this. This is my lollipop,” she said, sucking the head. “This is my toy.” She looked right at my dick and said, “You poor, poor baby. You’ve never been inside an asshole?” She kissed it lovingly. She moved her mouth up and down the shaft, slick with spit. I pushed into her and she made way in her throat for me, as far back as I could thrust. I could hear the juiciness of her mouth and feel when I hit the back of her throat. “Ugh” she said, not really gagging. I liked to hear her make that noise so I kept fucking her throat and listening to her wet sounds.

She asked, “Will you taste me?” She bent before me and offered the pink rosette of her asshole.

“Excuse me?”

She laughed. “Baby, put your tongue on it and give it a little kiss.” I was shy with my tongue, pressed it down quickly then pulled away. But I liked it. I liked the musky taste and puckered feel of it. I liked that it felt forbidden and new. “Make it wet for me.” She wriggled, putting my hot mouth where she wanted it. I entered her with my tongue, vaguely nervous about what I may find there, but it just tasted like sex. I pushed in deeper.

Katrina pulled away and maneuvered her bare ass right above my hard cock, again just out of reach. She spread her cheeks with both hands, wide open, so that I could see the pink of her hole then she lowered it, just enough to squeeze in the tip of my dick. She held it there, bouncing so slightly, the inner muscles clenching, then pulled out. So tight. She hunched over me, taunting. “If you want it come and get it.”

I pushed my body up with my hands, trying to get some leverage, trying to chase her asshole with my erection.

“You have to try harder than that! What, do you have two broken legs?” She laughed at her own joke.

I really struggled to push into her little hole — I wanted it so much. I attempted to pull her down onto me. I strained upward, thrusting into the air. She kept her butt spread wide open and barely out of reach. “Don’t you want it?” she asked mockingly and I told her yes and I said please and I reached for her round tits and massaged them. I could twist her pink gumdrop nipples and make her groan. With that she sat down on my cock until I was snug in her, balls deep. “Ah!” she cried out. She even surprised herself by taking me in so quickly, with only spit and a hint pre-cum as lubricant. But I knew this wasn’t her first time at the rodeo. This girl fucked like a pro. I watched her ample ass jiggle as she bounced on top of me, the perfect meat of her haunches reverberating. I held her by the shoulders, bringing her eager hole down and down again onto my cock.

She pulled my hands over her own hands and onto her breasts. Together we kneaded and squeezed, twisted her nipples so hard that she squirmed. I could see she liked a little pain with her pleasure and I didn’t mind giving it to her. Such a bad girl. Such a horny girl.

“Did you ever jerk off thinking about this? Taking a pretty girl in the ass?”

I moaned. “I thought about yooouuuu. Your ass. From the moment you stepped in tonight! From the first moment I met you! All through high school. You are my wet dream come to life.”

She let me maul her tits. In fact she let me handle her like a fuck-doll, something warm and durable that existed only for my pleasure and excitement. I fucked her mouth with my dirty fingers and she sucked on them greedily, giving me sweet moans each time I entered her (“ah, ah, ah”). I could see the red marks my fingers were making on her skin. I bit into her neck and she gasped, then rode me just a little harder. When I told her to get on her knees she did, putting in her mouth what had just been deep inside her bowels.

I told her, “I want to make you cum, if I can.”

“You just keep doing what you like and I can take care of that.” She put her long manicured fingers between her legs and rubbed. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Can I fuck you from behind again?” I asked.

“Don’t ask me silly questions! Tell me what you are going to do to me!”

I pulled her up and turned her around and gave her a smack on the rump for good measure. “I’m gonna fuck that ass,” I told her.

Her strong thighs kept her hovered above, feeding my erection into her slot until I felt her breath quicken. Her fingers worked quickly against her clit, her moans getting louder. “Now?” she asked. Her cheeks flushed and her muscles tightened as she shuddered in orgasm. It was every bit as aloud and lusty as I would have imagined.

“Don’t cum inside me,” she begged. “I want you to shoot where I can see it — and taste it.” I wanted this too, to spurt hot sperm anywhere I could hit — her luscious lips, her tits, face, neck – everywhere. I wished I could produce the loads of 10 men to cover with, just to see it on her face, welling up in her open mouth, splashing onto her hair, oozing from her asshole…

With that image in mind I pulled out and gave her what I had been trying to so hard to hold back. Two or three strokes and then the build-up of hot cum blasted her chest, dripping onto her tan stomach. My eyes rolled back in my head, the release so sweet. I was cumming all over the slut of my dreams and she was smearing it onto her skin, licking it from her fingers. Every nasty thing I’d ever heard about her was sure to be true and now she was here with me.

Like a good little nurse she went to get a warm, wet towel to clean me with and a cold beer to drink. She brought me clean pajama pants and put a fresh movie into the VCR. She even fluffed my pillow, the dear girl.

“Do you have everything you need to make it through the night?” she asked and I nodded.

“Good. Now get some rest,” she advised, “because I will be back in the morning to check on you.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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