An Exquisite Drop of Sweat

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Babes

This story is a work of fiction, a fragment of my imagination. It’s © Copyright January 2007, by publication under the word processor pseudonym of Hiker, and is protected by my right to rattle on freely. You, as a sovereign citizen, in the privacy of your own home, please, may use it for any disgusting purpose you want; however, you may not publish it anywhere else, at any time, for any reason without my permission, especially for money, which I want.

This story depicts acts of sexually explicit erotica, so if you read this story, you CERTIFY that you ARE NOT a representative, officer, employee, or former employee of, that you DERIVE NO AMOUNT OF INCOME from, any level of government; sorry, that means about 1 in 3 of you can’t read it. If you read it you also CERTIFY that it IS NOT in violation of any laws or so called “community standards”, at any level of government or mindset, for any reason.

You may not read this story if you’re under 21, even though I’d bet you will. Just remember you CAN NOT have a sex life, even in your head, if you’re under 21.

Since this story may bounce around in cyberspace, if you read this story you CERTIFY that you ARE NOT acting in any capacity, for any reason, for any company involved in cyberspace, or operating with permission of the Gestapo-like folks above, whether by air, land, or sea. I suppose all’a y’all will have to read it anyhow to be sure I’ve offended you. You MAY NOT, however, allow yourself to get excited by mere words on a page, because those sudden shifts in blood flow may be harmful to your health.

Lastly, whew, any resemblance of characters in this story to persons living, in suspended animation, or just plain dead is purely coincidental; even if not so coincidental, names have been changed to protect the passionate. At this point, some of you are laughing; some of you are asking, “Was all this necessary?” Maybe, maybe not, but it was fun to write.

This is a true story, to the best of a 25-year old memory. Enjoy; vote; send feedback. If you’re mean and nasty, I’ll probably ignore you; if you talk dirty, are female, and I like it, I may not.

I’m certainly open to constructive criticism, however. I got my basic education in a US public high school before casino oyna the public systems quit educating in the late 60’s, so my basic English is probably okay. By the time I went to a junior college in the middle 70’s, a Texas Government instructor, who I was hoping to bed, told me that only the English Composition instructors were allowed to grade on grammar. I didn’t get her, because she had a boyfriend; but I got an A+ on the paper, with a handwritten note that she wished she could have “… given me more”.

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I’ve never liked to be cold, or even very cool, but heat doesn’t bother me. I grew up in the Great Plains; there was no cooling in the apartment where my family first lived, or in the three houses after that. Then my parents bought a two-story house, which only had a water cooler downstairs. All four bedrooms were upstairs; we kept the downstairs windows closed at night, but not much cool air got upstairs, since that’s contrary to the natural flow of warm and cool air.

I lived in an 7air-conditioned place in the Navy, such as shipboard berthing compartments. I was on two different WW-II ships, so the air-conditioners were too old to cool well. I spent almost three years on my second ship, and made three cruises to the Middle East during that time. That old air-conditioner made even less headway against the sometimes 120+ degree temperatures of the Persian Gulf; the nights usually stayed over 100 degrees outside, and probably 80-85 degrees inside the berthing compartments. It was like living in Phoenix, without much cooling.

After the Navy, I returned home for 3 years, renting places with no air-conditioners. Then I moved to Texas, where my first apartment had a window air-conditioner in the dining area. I ran it overnight on rare occasions. My second apartment was a huge, upstairs duplex with no air-conditioning. I bought and installed two quasi-permanent window fans for hot weather, with 3 speed, reversible motors; one blew into the bedroom over the bed and the other was set to suck air out the other end of the apartment, about fifty feet away; that and 11-foot ceilings worked fairly well to cool the apartment enough for me. Those warm summer nights resulted in a lot of sweaty sex, at least canlı casino when I was able find a partner.

When Cele started living with me, I offered to buy an air-conditioner, but she didn’t seem to mind the hot nights. We had that fan blowing across the bed, which usually made it a bit too cool for me by morning. Many of the summer nights were hot, sometimes because of the temperature, but always because of Cele.

We had lots of sweaty fucking in that bed on summer nights, our wet bodies sliding on each other. I loved to taste the sweat between her breasts, as I licked, nibbled, and sucked them and the thick knobs of her nipples. I loved the salty taste of the skin on her ass cheeks, between those cheeks, and between her legs on those hot, hot nights. We had an open window beside the bed, and the 80+ year-old widower who lived downstairs must have heard her long, moaning orgasms scores of times those three summers. His bedroom was directly below ours, and we hoped it brought back great memories for him.

One night we’d gone to sleep, without sex beforehand, but as frequently happened under that circumstance, I woke sometime during the night with a hard on, spooned against Cele’s wonderful ass. I just started rubbing it around between those sweet cheeks, which began to wake her up; I shifted a little and pushed it between her legs, sliding it on the dampness across her perineum. I started sliding back and forth, very slowly, trying to plow the head through the furrow between her pussy lips; within a couple of minutes, I could feel the juice starting to seep out of her pussy. She was fully awake by then, and started holding the head of my dick against her, with her hand, so it slid across her clit; I had to shift a bit to facilitate that, but she was very juicy.

Within a few more minutes, she started to moan, holding my dick against her clit as I slid across it, and slowly had a long, long orgasm controlled by her hand. I kept sliding until she finished and released my dick. I pulled away and rolled her onto her back; kneeling between her legs I hooked my arms under her knees, raising and pushing her legs back until her ass was almost totally off the bed. I nestled the head of my dick into the outer part of her slippery kaçak casino lips, and shoved it all the way in, with a lot of force. She groaned at the impact and opened her eyes wide, but I just pulled it all the way out and shoved it in again. I started pounding her, probably as forcefully as I ever had, and she started into a second orgasm with her eyes wide open, almost wincing every time I slammed it in. I was covered with sweat; I could feel the coolness of the window fan on my sweaty ass, as I pounded into her. The feeling on the head of my dick from those full-length strokes was incredible; hearing her continuous moaning orgasm was incredible; and feeling my orgasm boil up at the same time was even more incredible. Some of my cum shots were deep in her; some were almost totally outside her; and she put her hands down to feel the strokes and the cum. It was a stupendous orgasm for both of us.

I finally let her legs down, and let myself down onto her. We were drenched in sweat; I just started sliding around on her a bit, for the fun of it, but stopped when I felt the sweat from my lower back and cheeks running down into my ass crack. I was just past the point of maximum skin sensitivity from my orgasm. A drop rolled back and down, probably gathering more sweat as it went; it rolled across my perineum, around my anus, and onto my balls. I felt every millimeter of it’s travel, just groaning as it went – never in my life, before or since, have I felt the exquisite feeling that drop of sweat created, almost like a follow-up orgasm. I savored that feeling for a few minutes before telling Cele what had happened. We fell asleep again, two sweaty, sticky spoons this time.

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This is a true story, to the best of a 25-year old memory. Enjoy; vote; send feedback. If you’re mean and nasty, I’ll probably ignore you; if you talk dirty, are female, and I like it, I may not.

I’m certainly open to constructive criticism, however. I got my basic education in a US public high school before the public systems quit educating in the late 60’s, so my basic English is probably okay. By the time I went to a junior college in the middle 70’s, a Texas Government instructor, who I was hoping to bed, told me that only the English Composition instructors were allowed to grade on grammar. I didn’t get her, because she had a boyfriend; but I got an A+ on the paper, with a handwritten note that she wished she could have “… given me more”.

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