You Never Know - Pt. 01

by PostScript56

I try to avoid meeting the fathers of the women I date. It's sometimes hard to do since some, especially at eighteen, still live at home. It's easy with the ones that board at college, but occasionally I meet a day student too good to pass up. Fathers can get a little touchy, especially since I'm not a long-term relationship kinda guy.

Her father knew that about me and he knew that for a long time. And so did her mother. They were always so protective of her. That's why their reaction surprised me, and even more surprising is how much closer we've gotten... because of her.

It only goes to show, you never know.

But I'm getting ahead of myself...

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I was never close to Giselle, their daughter, but we, and our families, would run into each other at neighborhood or school events. Her mother and father talked to my mother and father and I talked to Giselle out of politeness. Actually, I should say, talked at her, as she usually looked down until I stopped and looked around for something better to do. Usually, I just looked at her mother's tits and watched her ass twitch when she shifted her weight as they talked. I was happy to wait patiently. Her father always saved me from his daughter's company by coming over and engaging us with talk and ice cream.

It was two years after high school and one more fight later that I broke with my father and went out on my own. As a recently licensed electrician I didn't have to work under anybody. A year later, I was doing well.

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A JUNIOR IN COLLEGE

I lost touch with Giselle when I moved out of town -- not that I was ever in touch - what I mean is, I forgot all about her. She wasn't very memorable back then.

She appeared back on my radar when I was fuck-buddies with a college coed I had just dropped off as the entering and exiting class crowds coalesced. It was towards the end of the spring semester and I wouldn't have noticed except that my fuck buddy stopped her.

She said something to her and she nodded and when Angie, my fuck-buddy, turned and waved, her eyes followed.

That's when I knew. I thought there was something familiar, something about the stiff way she stood, the abrupt way she nodded, but I wasn't sure until she looked over.

Yep, that was the face; Giselle, a few years older. It wasn't the undeveloped face of a shunned loner; it was slightly fuller, softer, and prettier now, still angled, but tempered, and still serious.

Just as Angie, my fuck-buddy, her classmate, scooted off, our eyes met, and, after a moment of recognition, she waved awkwardly - not just in the way I remembered, but also in the way you do when you see someone from the old neighborhood you knew, but were never really, really friendly with.

It was like that.

It was the logical thing to do if you weren't purposely being rude. She obviously had gotten less socially awkward as she matured because, in the past, I would never have expected her to wave, let alone, come over.

There was a femininity, in her walk, something her unflattering clothes could not hide; something rotational and unexpected - her body was totally different. She wasn't flat chested anymore - far from it. Even her loose-fitting blouse couldn't hide that. And, she developed hips! She looked nothing like the Giselle from high school.

In high school, her undeveloped body did not draw the attention of boys. Not that she wanted it. In high school she was a painfully shy, head-down, hair-covering-her-face, skinny dork who buried her head in books. The girls I knew buried their heads in my crotch - just sayin'.

A couple of guys hurrying to class looked her over - in spite of her clothes and uninviting demeanor.

She was never the friendliest. By nature, and circumstance, Giselle was a loner. The guys that noticed her, never would have noticed her in high school. Guys like them made fun of her. Now they can drop dead. Yeah, not too many friends; you don't make many friends hiding out in the library, unless they're like you. That's how she met him. I found that out later.

I found out other things too -- like her, "Nice to see you", had actual warmth to it, and that her smile-accompanied handshake expressed more than a kiss and a hug. There was something different besides the physical. Her eyes had more life than I ever remembered and had a glint of something else. Before we unclasped our hands, it hit me -- Giselle got laid!

Yep, been laid, and, no doubt, getting laid.

Not that I was surprised after closer inspection - even under those clothes! Her body? Forget it.

She was still analytical in manner, but now there was a warmth that I could only surmise came with maturity and the compartmentalization of past hurts. Getting laid no doubt helped.

She asked how my family was, I asked how her family was. We exchanged facts; her sister had a baby boy, they live in Jersey, her mom and dad still live in the same house one block around the corner from the apartment building I grew up in, and she still lives with them. When I thought about it, it didn't surprise me.

Some other facts she shared did surprise me; like she knew I started my own business, lived 2 towns away, she had a literature class with Angie, and that I lived near the law office she was going to work for that summer.

It wasn't a short discussion, but it wasn't long. It was appropriate and efficient and conveyed what needed to be conveyed.

When she left, I watched, from the car, as the curve of her skirt popped and swayed with her receding steps. There was an ass there that wasn't there before

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THAT SATURDAY

That Saturday, Angie told me Giselle mentioned she knew me; that we used to live in the same neighborhood and went to the same high school.

She said Giselle asked about me more than once. She asked if I fucked Giselle in high school. When I said no and described her back then, Angie understood, but "What about now?", she asked.

The answer was obvious but I didn't want to get into it. I said, "My plate's full."

It really was and I put the thought aside. It made no sense to waste my time and resources on another temptation when I already had others pursued and persuaded who would soon be bedded.

Angie seemed unconvinced, but considered my theory that it was just interest in meeting someone Giselle never expected to see again.

Angie pressed her doubts though, noting Giselle never talked about anything besides school work before - and, even though she had one, never talked about her boyfriend.

Angie said she always saw them in the library. She wasn't impressed. Giselle could have hooked up with any number of good-looking guys, but instead, she was with him. He was nerdy and dull and she wondered what kind of sex they had, or did they just read together or what?

I shrugged.

I fucked Angie silly that night thinking of Giselle. Her pussy slurped over my cock that night and she squirted like a piss-clam. Angie's cunt's spongey resistance and enveloping embrace always made me cum heavy, and I did -after she did - again - shooting in when she squirted out.

Angie liked to get a rise out of people, especially if she thought they were prudish or easily embarrassed, and so she told me the next Saturday she told Giselle about our sexual romps and how she found out she was a squirter.

Angie said Giselle wasn't uncomfortable or embarrassed, but actually curious, in an academic way; like, what was it like to squirt, and when Angie said I had a big, uncircumcised cock, Giselle seriously asked Angie to estimate its length and girth with her hands and asked if having foreskin felt different and if my size hurt. Not getting the rise she wanted, Angie then raved about anal, and Giselle, to Angie's frustration, questioned her more.

"She's fuckin' weird, you should just fuck her -- just not on one of my days. I bet she fucks like a robot."

The next week, when Angie brought it up, Giselle told her, her boyfriend wasn't interested in anal - he thought it was dirty. Her tone was unwavering, as if saying he didn't like vegetables, but it was the most intimate thing she ever shared, and, as Angie said, as hard to read as she was, Giselle seemed disappointed.

When the college year ended, I took Angie out, fucked her goodbye all night long and dropped her off before her parents arrived. She gave a weak, tired wave as she headed towards her dorm.

I knew if I ever saw her again, it wouldn't be anytime soon. She was doing junior year abroad.

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LAST MONDAY IN JUNE

On the last Monday in June (26th) I got an email on my professional website. It was from Giselle. She asked to have coffee. Her request piqued my interest. I hadn't thought about her since Angie. The Giselle I remembered would never ask to meet anyone. Between her insular personality and pre-pubescent awkwardness, Giselle avoided others.

I agreed to meet the next day at a place near my apartment after work. I knew I'd be free because Cindy left a message to cancel; something about her kids.

I was emailing back to confirm, when, at the end of the email, just before I was going to hit 'send', and because I'm a natural flirt, I added, 'wear something sexy'.

She wrote back; 'Sorry, I'll be dressed for work.'

I didn't expect a reply, especially one that addressed my flirt. The fact that she did, surprised me. She was too serious for sarcasm and I realized she was serious. She really was sorry -- sorry to disappoint me. It got me thinking. It made me smile.

You never know.

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THE DINER

I got there before she did. I raised my hand so she could see me in the booth in the back on the left. She didn't wave back. She walked straight to me with a bit more haste than was necessary. Her professional clothes hugged her body a lot more than her casual attire and the sway of her hips and tight bounce of her tits stirred me.

She slid in.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No, thank you. I'm just going to have coffee."

I waved the waiter over, "Two coffees."

He nodded and left.

"So, how's the job going?"

"Very good. After the first week they had me working with one of the lawyers and I'm doing a lot of research for his cases."

"So, you like it?"

"Yes, I'm learning a lot. I saw you expanded your office."

"I did," I said surprised, not just because she knew, but because I had forgotten about her jarring conversational shifts. "I just added some new photos to my website."

"I know. How is it going?"

"Good. A little disruptive, but good."

The waiter plopped down our coffees - the place confused rudeness with ambiance.

Giselle smiled politely to hurry things along, "That's great. John's in graduate school, his program started this summer."

"John?"

"My boyfriend. He left right after graduation."

"Oh, what school?"

She told me. It was more than 3 hours away by train.

"Does he come down or do you go up?"

"I go up on weekends. He has to work the labs, though, it's part of the program. It doesn't leave us much time. Angie told me she was going home for the summer. Do you see her?"

"No."

"We both got A's in our literature class. She told me without the responsibilities of a relationship she had more time to study. I understood - I had the responsibilities of a relationship. Now it's a long distance one."

Giselle reviewed and recited the circumstances of the last year as if defending a dissertation.

"I wasn't looking for one, but we're very much alike. We saw each other every day in the library but, if we hadn't shared a class, we never would have even spoken to each other.

We ended up studying for that class, and others, at the same table, after class, every day.

We had sex one night after cramming for finals and I found that the physical pleasure, which was incredibly enjoyable, ..." she paused and looked down, like I remembered in high school, but instead of sadness, or shyness, or insecurity, a smile broke from its borders and receded slightly before she raised her eyes to continue, "... relieved stress.

We did it 2, sometimes 3, times a week. I wanted more but he let me know more than that would interfere with his studying.

I know I get obsessive about things, so I tried not to be too demanding. John seems to be good in bed - narrow in his approach, but, whenever we do it, I really enjoy it."

She searched my eyes for a response, but I gave her none.

She continued, "Before school ended, I agreed to come up on weekends. We're both loners but, as you know, you can't have sex by yourself."

She gave me a look in need of an understanding smile. I gave her one.

She paused and held my gaze before finishing, "Right now, what I need is not possible with John - not with the distance and everything. It's late by the time I get up there and after running the labs and doing his own work, we barely do it. Saturday nights are a little better. The Sunday train schedule is limited, so I guess what would be called a 'quickie' is the best we can do. He's ok with it. We don't talk about it; he's happy so he doesn't think there's a need for talk and I don't want to upset him while he's in the program. He mentioned marriage. I didn't know what to say. He caught me off guard. I said we would talk after he finished his program. That's all. Legally speaking, I didn't accept his offer and I didn't promise monogamy. Are you interested?"

We left before finishing our coffee. She texted her parents something vague and reassuring.

We fucked long and hard.

She was a surprisingly good kisser and had her clothes off in seconds. I expanded her repertoire way beyond missionary. She was much more expressive than I ever expected. It surprised her too, she said later - and she sucked my dick like a kid with a new toy. She stayed 2 hours, she would have stayed 3, but she had work in the morning and research to finish.

That was the first time I drove her home. She asked to be let off around the corner so that it looked like she walked from the bus.

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HER OBSESSIVENESS

Her obsessiveness came to the fore, and, from that day on, she came over every day after work. If I had a date, it would be a quickie and she'd take the bus home, if not, I'd fuck her for two, sometimes three, hours and drive her home where she'd walk from around the corner. She didn't have a car. He did. He drove them wherever they had to go, but now he was 3 hours away. She felt bad about the situation, but got over it the more we got into it, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Again.

That first kiss? - was more than desperate.

The minute we got into my apartment she besieged my mouth with her tongue and sucked my lips hard. Before I knew it, her clothes were at her feet. I was groping her large, firm tits and we were both kicking off our shoes. I was way behind in undressing, but when she kissed my face with a conquering grip, I pushed my pants down and drove my dick up her cunt.

I rarely do that without a condom, unless I know they're clean, but her urgency was infectious and, once lined up, my cock slid through my tunneled palm and into her cunt without stopping.

Giselle gasped and froze like one does from a body punch and her lips snapped away as her head snapped back. Her eyes opened unseeing and fluttered in sync with her guttural moans.

I was fucking her against the wall and she came before she could care being barebacked. I lifted and fucked her over to the bed, and when the bed no longer gave, I stayed balls deep and watched as she squirmed below, arching and curling to the sensations that ripped her body.

Too overwhelmed by the size of my incursion, she flashed and looked through me, gripping and climbing my locked arms to question silently and beg inarticulately before collapsing ecstatically.

I pistoned slowly and she rode a low groan before fucking back. We picked up steam quickly but her participation lessened after each breath-taking climax. She grabbed the sheets behind her like a crash victim and opened her eyes each time in shocked alarm and gratitude.

I came on her stomach and past her tits before folding around her. Giselle was as content as a well-fed baby. I rolled off to go pee and she remained still, assessing the damage before shifting gingerly like you would from a wreck.

She was massaging the streaks of cum absentmindedly when I settled back down beside her. She turned her head towards me and sighed, before closing her eyes and rubbing the last splash of cum into her tits.

It wasn't long before her tongue became coyly defensive after mine pushed past her lips. My cock had stiffened after hardly deflating and her breath exhaled strongly as her cunt spasmed around my thick, invading dick. Her eyes shut tight as she orgasmed from the assault and then opened wide as they rolled back into her head. The first drop of the roller-coaster was beginning and she grabbed my ass to enhance the ride.

When I came inside her again, she pulled me in by my ass and held tight.

I rolled off with a slosh and she grabbed her pussy and curled up, "Oh, my Goddd...," she jerked like she had held in a sneeze, and then another, and another, before she relaxed and looked up at the ceiling.

"Are you on the pill?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Good. I'm tested. I'm safe."

"Thank you, so am I," she whispered before another tremor hit.

Afterwards she played with my dick silently until it was hard then rolled on top and eased herself down slowly.

Moaning and choking from the happy, painful path of my cock, she rode me gently at first so as to prevent internal damage and then not so, and then beyond description. She came again in spasms and when she rolled off, I followed and fucked her like a dog and, from the exertion of our endeavors, we ended up on the floor and against the wall and, since it was right there, I came on her face.

Her head rolled lazily against the wall before listing down and she asked groggily, "What time is it?"

I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She followed me in.

End of Part 1

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