Paige Pockets Arnie
Keywords: Pockets, Paige, Arnie,
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"So, is that the extent of your interest in me?" I ask, casting a hook.
"No, I was watching you in negotiation on behalf of your friends, wondering why a guy would want to do that for other guys. I saw how efficiently you operated, adroitly soothing your way around Irene who can be one tough cookie.
"I sat thinking I could be interested in you so when the opportunity arose I made my play, not knowing then that Arnie is Arnie Strickland the newspaper columnist."
"Very interesting, so may I ask what other plans do you have for me?"
"Answer this, Arnie, truthfully. What does a guy think when he goes out with a woman for the first time?"
I blush.
"The truth, Arnie," she giggles.
"Er, this could be a little embarrassing for you."
"Embarrass me, Arnie."
"He wonders how far she will go on the first date."
"Splendid. Now what am I thinking, Arnie?"
I turn, looking at the door handle wondering if I should make a run for it at the first opportunity. But that seemed rather juvenile. Instead I should use my brain and parry.
"I am too much of a gentleman to speculate aloud."
"Oh Arnie," she says, dropping a hand casually on to my thigh. "I knew you would not disappoint me. Seducing you will be so much fun."
I look at the door handle again, this time intently.
"Should I pull over, Arnie?"
"No, whatever for?" I ask, feigning surprise although I'm really am surprised she's on to me.
We drift into other conversation and arrive at her house, which is twice as big as and a little more upmarket than ours but I'm relieved it's not a mansion. She's already told me daddy is an industrial chemist and mom manages a pharmacy.
That last piece of information made my wonder if Paige has complimentary condoms in her handbag. (I have these inane thoughts like that allowing me to write unusual things that really interest people).
The Mikkelsen's advance with friendly smiles as we enter. Paige makes the introductions. Mom Mikkelsen – a bigger version of Paige with lighter auburn hair – welcomes me to their home and invites Paige and me to dine with them but Paige says she want to demonstrate to me that she can cook.
Mom's eyes widened at that; she looks at me and I can tell the jury is out.
Dad invites me to call him David and I can tell the way his eyes light up when I accept the offer of a beer that he thinks I'm a good guy.
Mom almost swoons when Paige says I write the 'Arnie's Oddities' column.
"Oh, I'm so honored to meet you Mr Strickland (she was calling me Arnie until now), you are a fabulous teller of stories in such succinct fashion."
Gee, thanks mom; very nicely expressed, I muse.
"You look nothing like your photograph at the top of the column," says dad, indicating he's at least a scanner of the column.
"No, they took that pic after we returned from three hours in a bar."
"You're the man," David grins, clinking bottles with me. Paige scurries across and hangs on to my arm proudly. I'm really getting to like this caper of dating and impressing the folks.
"How old are you, Mr Strickland?"
"Mom!"
"It's all right dear, I need to know."
"You don't need to know, mom – don't answer her," says Paige with a dangerous edge to her voice.
Mom squares her shoulders, and now looks menacing.
"I'll be thirty in November," I blurt, to avoid a resumption of the Range Wars.
Mom smirks at her daughter and says, "I just needed to know, Paige. I just needed to know. That's a very nice age, Mr Strickland."
I think how nice; I'm cruising through a very nice age.
"Five years difference is acceptable."
"Mom!" shouts Paige, her tone now bordering hysteria.
"Come on, Arnie," she says, dragging me by the arm. "It's time for me to get you your dinner."
"Goodbye, Mrs Mikklesen, David," I wave.
"Come and have another beer with me if she bores the pants off you," snickers David.
"Dad!" snarls Paige, pulling me through the door at almost a gallop.
*THREE*
"Well, you've met the parents," sighs Paige as if disowning them, shutting the door between the house and her extension, ramming home a brass bolt.
"This room is very sweet," I venture, knowing in theory how to defuse women.
"Oh, what a heavenly thing to say," she says, slamming against me so I get the four-pointer – lips pressing into mine, breasts squashing into my chest, pelvises roughly aligned and her knees pressing just under mine (I'm taller).
Why I couldn't feel our shoes touching I wouldn't know – perhaps one of us is bandy? I left that quandary and sated my emotions on the sweetness of her lips and inhaling her erotic perfume.
"Just a moment," she says, breaking the kiss. "I'll get a couple of pizzas out to thaw to have later then I'm taking you to my bed. Go through to the bedroom."
"I'd rather wait for you," I say nervously. It's already June and this will be only my third fuck this entire year.
"Oh, how chivalrous," she murmurs, eying me in what only can be described as the look of an impressed woman.
Paige runs to the kitchen and I hear her rooting through the freezer, the door slams, two pizzas thump on the bench and she's racing back and I take her in my arms.
"Mmmmmmmm," I go, kissing into the hollow of her throat, giving her time to catch her breath. I feel her shudder and she whispers 'Oh God' with her eyes closed and head thrown back, leaving me to think what an odd time to pray.
"Carry me to the bed," she whispers.
No problem but I do find her rather solid – a big-boned girl, methinks.
I place Paige at the end of the bed and she tugs off the bedspread and drapes it over a small sofa. She unzips the back of her dress and pulls it forward, allowing it to drop to her waist. Wowee – this girl has build, and I'm not talking breast meat. Her shoulders and arms are quite muscular and her trunk is beautifully toned, her belly as flat as a plate.
She sees me staring so says, "I work out four mornings a week, have done so for a number of years – but lately in not having a guy around I've been returning to the gym in evenings. Don't laugh at my legs."
She kicks off her shoes and pushes her dress over her hips and it lands on the floor. I don't laugh when I see what she means. Although Paige is not at all masculine in any other way that I've spotted, I can see through the silver sheen stockings she has the thigh and calf muscular development of a fit, lithe young man.
It's her turn to be nervous, her eyes searching my face but I'd deliberately neutralized my visage to minimize chances of reacting badly, having received that appeal not to laugh.
My brain speeds to feed my mouth with something supportive, and it comes easily.
"Paige, thin elegant long legs belong to very tall women; you are not a tall woman but rather a modernized version of stocky ancestors. Your legs have responded magnificently to your body-building efforts. I love the result, truly."
I let the sincerity show as I smile and see she appreciates that.
I drop to my knees, hugging her thighs as I kiss them. She snatches two handfuls of my hair and groans lightly. I know I'm in for a wonderful night.
Back on my feet I push her back on to the bed, catching my first concentrated look at her bra-encased breasts as she falls. The cups appear well-filled.
Carefully I pull off her hi-thigh self-supporting stockings, telling her I'm absolutely nutty about women in stockings, though most of my experience is looking at movies or stocking websites.
"Oooh, you filthy pervert," she giggles.
"Do you have dirty DVDs that you watch on this bed?" I ask, having earlier noticed the screen and integrated DVD player.
She turns scarlet!
"We can always watch one while we fuck," I suggest and her eyes widen.
"Yes," she croaks; I slap the side of her butt and say, "Good girl."
Gently I pick up her right leg and began sucking her big toe, staring at her but and smiling softly. I didn't have to wait long before I see her hand snake down and stay hovering over her panties while I ran my hand down the back of her calf.
It becomes too much, she groans, her hand slips down the top of her panties and she frigs her clit. Oh boy, my erection stiffens to maximum as I look at her: she'd turned her face sideways, closed her eyes and her mouth is open, her tongue dancing along her top lip. She appears to have slipped into a sexual trance.
What to do, I wonder, my meager experience showing. Stay put! yells my inner voice, so I keep on with my toe sucking.
A half minute later she opens her eyes and stops masturbating without showing any sign of having gotten herself away. Turning and looking at me with a very intense gaze, her blue eyes now very dark, she says: "Fuck me, Arnie."
No problem, I'm more than ready and reckon the appropriate thing to do is a slow, soft and loving conventional fuck, shooting into her and then staying in to soak and saying sweet things to her; she'll probably really like that.
Paige reaches under her pillow and pulls out a condom, holding it up for me to grab.
"As far as I know I'm clean, Paige and have not been active for three months."
She smiles sweetly and thrusts the package back under her pillow.
I reach up and pull down her panties. She pushes her bra down, freeing her breasts. They look real beauties, at a guess 34Cs, not that I'm a good judge of such things.
Paige raises her knees and spreads them; there it is, her vulva, totally shaven and already looking slick and swollen after our combined teasing.
I don't wish to keep her hanging after her partial fingering, so I kick off my shoes as she wriggles up the bed; I unzip and pounce. I will get my gear off later.
You whisper to me, "Relax Baby...I just want you to just lay back and enjoy what I'm going to do to you." Mmm, no problem.
You look at my pussy, taking in the incredible sight. My inner thighs slightly wet, but my pussy totally covered with my creamy juices. You begin to run your tongue up and down my inner thighs, tasting a tiny bit of me.
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Keywords: Pockets, Paige, Arnie,