more openly in the mirror, the crotch of my panties like a thin blue line bisecting my loins.
Now that I had teased my cunt to the point of no return, I peeled my panties off. They came stickily out of my crack as I rolled them wetly down my thrusting hips. Once they were off and heaped damply on the floor, I spread my legs widely, filling the mirror with the hairy image of my hotly open cunt.
I plunged my lingers into my pussy. Two fingers, and then three of them, licking my lips at the sight of being deeply fingerfucked by my own hand.
And then the doorbell rang.
CHAPTER TWO
A door-to-door salesman. Brushes.
My life had become so boring that frequently I secretly welcomed one of these jokers ringing my bell, trying to sell me something I didn't want. At least it filled the time. The more I resisted, the more they talked, and the more time it killed.
But not today. Not now. I had a cunt between my legs that was ready to explode. I was afraid that if I got into a conversation with someone, within two minutes they would notice the pussy juice trickling down my legs.
I suppose I could have just not answered the door. But the minute I heard the bell ringing, the fragile atmosphere of my Alice-through-the-looking-glass fantasy had been ruptured. As the ringing persisted I became more and more convinced that if I tried to ignore it, whoever was at the door might come into the house anyway, catching me with my hand halfway up my cunt.
Standing there talking to him at the door, I prayed that I could get rid of him before the fact of my oozing cunt, drooling nakedly under my rumpled short skirt, became so obvious that it would embarrass both of us.
He was a tall, handsome young man, probably in his early twenties. He said he was working his way through the local university to become a veterinarian. He looked the part. He was fresh and rough-hewn like he had been raised on the healthy environment of a farm, getting involved with animals and the land while he was growing up, instead of drugs and cheap thrills like so many kids around these days. He had short brown hair and a jutting jaw. And even under his brown corduroy suit I could see that he had an exceptionally muscular body.
'I hope I haven't interrupted anything,' he said, his azure-blue eyes meeting mine.
'Oh, no, no,' I lied. 'I was just waking up from a nap anyway.'
'Well, then, may I come inside?' he said assertively but pleasantly.
'Uh, sure… sure,' I said, unable to think of any other response to his polite insistence. 'Come in and have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?'
'No thanks,' he said as he sat down.
He must have been about six-foot-four and over two hundred pounds without an ounce of fat on him. Standing in the doorway, walking across the room or sitting down, I could see that he was a beautiful hunk of man. And not the least of it, I suddenly noticed when he sat down and his pants stretched tightly against his crotch, was the huge corduroy bulge between his legs. Spontaneously, it occurred to me that at least five pounds of that two-hundred had to be his cock, judging from the provocative mound in his trousers.
'Do you have something cooking in the kitchen?' he asked, startling me with his unexpected question.
'Why do you ask?' I said, puzzled.
'Because you were licking your lips… like you were thinking about something good to eat,' he said, smiling.
Was it my imagination or didn't the bulge between his legs seem to throb when he said that? I averted my eyes from him, trying to deny my interest in his crotch.
But it did no good. My cunt was foaming with uncontrollable desire, even hotter than it had been when I was fingerfucking myself in the mirror.
'Are you sure you don't want any coffee?' I asked again, trying to forget about the pulsing between my thighs.
'No,' he said, 'But don't let me stop you if you want some.'
'Oh, no, that's all right,' I said, trying not to betray my nervousness and taking a chair across from him. As I sat down, my skirt climbed to the tops of my thighs. Remembering that I had nothing underneath I gave it a tug, muttering in frustration under my breath.
'I'm sorry. What did you say?' he asked.
'Oh,' I said. 'I was just complaining to myself how short this skirt is. It's out of style, I'm afraid. I just wear it around the house.'
'I think it's very attractive,' he said, smiling. 'If you're worried about what I think – don't. Besides, you have no reason to complain. You have exceptionally beautiful legs.'
'Thank you,' I blushed.
'And you don't have to sit clear across the room, you know. I'll never be able to show you my samples unless you come over here to the couch.' He patted the sample case he'd been carrying. But in some fantasizing corner of my brain I could see him patting that bulging crotch.
The way he looked across the room at me, I didn't see how I could say no without seeming to be impolite.
'Don't worry, I won't try and bite you… or try and sell you anything you don't want.'
'I know you wouldn't,' I said as I moved to sit beside him.
I could feel his eyes on my legs as my skirt slid up. I knew I should have put my panties back on before I answered the door. My skirt was within a couple of inches of the bush of my cunt and there was nothing to stop this stranger from seeing it if I made a false move. It would be bad enough if a stranger saw my pussy, but even more embarrassing when he noticed that it was absolutely sopping.
'You know,' he said, putting his arm around me, 'you are a very pretty girl.'
I was so flattered that such a good-looking young guy had called me a girl I ignored my immediate reaction of being annoyed at his forwardness and let his arm remain unmolested around my shoulders.
'I'll bet you get lonely sitting around here alone all day,' he said like he really understood my plight.
'As a matter of fact I do,' I practically blurted, astonished at my candor. 'But of course,' I quickly tried to cover up, 'I read quite a bit, and I have a few other interests.'
'Like what?' he said, moving his body even closer to me.
'Oh, you know… you know,' I stammered, totally at a loss to give any examples.
'Like playing with your pussy?' he said in a voice as calm and friendly as the one he'd used to introduce himself when I'd answered the door.
'I beg your pardon,' I replied incredulously.
He didn't say anything. Instead he just looked down between my legs. My mouth flew open when I looked down, too, and saw that my skirt had wriggled halfway up my bare hips and half of my cunt was showing. A thick trickle of glistening goo oozed strikingly from the crimson slot in the center of my bush.
'I… I…' I stuttered, vainly trying to think of a denial for what was as obvious as both the nose on my face and the bare, moist pussy between my thighs.
'Don't be afraid,' he said, reaching over my shoulder and squeezing one of my breasts, cupping my braless tit in his strong but gentle grip. 'You want it, don't you?'
'No, actually I have all the brushes I'll ever need,' I said.
'You don't have to play games with me,' he said. 'I've seen you looking at my cock ever since I sat down. You don't have to be ashamed that you want it.'
'I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about,' I said huffily, trying unsuccessfully to act as though his bulging cock and balls were the last things I had on my mind. Actually my brain was filled with their burning image, a picture of a long stiff prick and two throbbing testicles engorging my imagination.
'Oh, no, baby,' he said, 'you've got it all wrong. You wouldn't have answered the door with no panties on unless you were hoping ten inches of cock was waiting for you at the door.'
Ten inches! My pussy started doing flip flops.
