Chastity was nineteen when I met her. I was nearly twice her age. Maybe I should have had more sense than to go all mushy over a girl so young. Maybe I should have given more thought to the risk, but truth is, she stole my heart. Then she stomped it and kicked it to the curb. She was a part-time writer at the suburban newspaper where I worked back then. I had noticed her but we hadn?t met. She was thin, with brown hair so long it brushed the delicious curve of her ass. Not beautiful, she was plain but nice looking, although I didn't like something about her nose. I think it was the shape. Her eyes, though. They were special. Blue, blue eyes. Double blue. Eyes so truly blue they're impossible to find when you're looking for them, even if you don't know you're looking for them. Then one day you look up from your computer to see who's standing next to you and there they are! That blue. The blue that looks deep into your soul. ?Hi,? she said. ?I?m Chastity.? Her teeth were perfectly aligned and as white as new piano keys. I looked her over and thought of a line from St. Augustine?s ?Confessions?: ?Give me chastity and continence, but not just yet!? Words of wisdom by a sensible man. I
Escort Göztepe should have listened to them. ?Uh-huh. What can I do for you?? I said, and I confess my mind was busily ticking off a list of things I?d like to do for her. I didn?t even tell her my name. ?Igor said you?d look at my story,? she said, flashing the teeth and the blue sweetly. Igor was the managing editor. He was short, squat, and hairy. Nobody called him Igor to his broad, gnarled face. ?Sure. What?s it slugged?? ?Chamber.? ?Like torture chamber, chamber of horrors?? ?No, silly, chamber of commerce.? Igor sent part-timers to report on snoozers like meetings of civic groups. They were too green to be bored. ?I?ll check it out. You gonna be around a while?? ?Uh-huh. I?m done but I?ll hang around till you read it. Can I look over your shoulder?? Copy editors know it?s not wise to allow a writer to watch you slice and dice their work. But I was smitten and the little wisdom I had wasn?t operational in her presence. Chastity had a surplus of animal magnetism. Judging from the tingle in my jeans, I?d let her watch me pleasure myself. But it was an opening and I pressed advantage.
Caddebostan escort ?Only if you?ll have a drink with me after work,? I said. ?If you know where they won?t card me. I?m only nineteen.? ?I?m only thirty-four,? I said. ?Wow,? she said, pulling a chair close to mine. The way she said it could have meant anything. I let it go. I called up her chamber story on my screen and began to read it. The only thing more boring than a civic group meeting is a story about a civic group meeting. I commenced slicing and dicing with my cerebral scalpel. Despite the air-conditioning, I could feel the heat of her warming me. ?Why did you cut that?? she said as I defined and deleted a sentence. ?You didn?t need it,? I said. ?You said pretty much the same thing near the top.? ?Oh.? She leaned forward, closer to the screen, and proceeded to chew her finger. I continued editing, she watched and asked questions, and twenty minutes later we were on our way to a tavern off the main drag where I knew the barkeep wasn?t very scrupulous about checking IDs. It was all uphill from there. Chastity came from a religiously mixed family; Marie, her mother,
Bağdat Caddesi escort bayan was Catholic, and her father, Aaron, was raised Amish, but apparently they couldn?t keep him down on the farm after he met Marie. That?s understandable to any guy who?s known Catholic schoolgirls. Now you might think a girl with that name, coming from that background, would be shy about sex, but you'd be way wrong. Chastity was not shy, she was a Sex Goddess. The girl could be a porn star. If she got that nose fixed. We got a booth, we played footsies. I bought her dinner, she rewarded my generosity with a conjugal visit to my frugal digs?an efficiency in a high-rise close to the office. It didn?t take me long to discover Chastity wasn?t chaste. Most of our buzz had faded from our drinks before dinner, so I broke out my bottle of Jameson, the Catholic Irish whiskey, hoping it would facilitate a religious experience. Half a bottle later, Chastity and I were abed engaged in several of what the church euphemistically calls ?impure acts?. She wasn?t as thin as she looked in clothes. The sight of her naked had me delirious with desire. Straight for the muff I went, and finding her pussy a bit, well, fragrant, didn?t deter me. I figured there was enough alcohol in me to annihilate any toxic bugs. She was a screamer, too. She howled as she came, and I kept my face pressed against her pubes as they contracted several times. When she caught her breath she cooed, ?I want you inside me now.? I climbed aboard.
