One Kiss Too Many

Chapter One: I Love A Rainy Night

It all began the night I was driving home from
Victoria. I had just purchased a brand new Dodge Ram
pickup truck, black, with dual rear wheels. It was a
Laramie Longhorn, fully loaded with etched leather
bucket seats. I had spent most of the evening showing
off my truck to some friends in the city.

It was late, and raining heavily on that warm autumn
evening. As I was about to begin my ascent over the
Malahat to my home, I caught a glimpse of a car out
of the corner of my eye. It was pulled over in an
empty turn-around lot, with the hood up. In the stark
blackness of a stormy night, I saw a figure hanging
over the open hood. I pulled over to see if they
needed help. I pulled up close, and rolled down the
passenger side window. That’s when I realized the
person was a woman. She was wearing a long trench
coat.

“Do you need any help?” I shouted out the window,
realizing what a stupid question that was. The woman
straightened up, and turned to look at me. She also
had on a large-brimmed hat that gave her some
protection from the teeming rain.

“I just pulled over to fix my wiper blade, and it
died on me,” she explained.

“Ya, those Omnis are notorious for acting up in the
rain,” I said. “I’ve got a flashlight. Let me have a
look.” I quickly grabbed my Maglite and an umbrella.
Being a newcomer to Vancouver Island, I was told to
carry an umbrella, so I bought a huge one that could
cover two people easily.

“Here, hold this,” I said to the woman, handing her
the umbrella. I shone the flashlight on the
distributor cap, and undid the clips that held the
cover on. Sure enough, the points were wet.

“Just as I thought. Your distributor cap must be
cracked. Water is getting in. Your car won’t start
until they’re dried.”

“How do I do that,” she asked.

“You need a spray, or just wait for the sun to dry
it. Hop in the truck, and I’ll get you some help,” I
said.

“My children are in the back. I can’t leave them,”
she said, worriedly.

“Of course not,” I exclaimed. “Let’s get them in the
truck.” She opened the back door, revealing two
sleeping tots.

“Okay. Keep holding the umbrella, and I’ll pick them
up, one at a time.” I reached in, and carefully
picked up the closest one, a small boy, three or
four. I gingerly carried him to the truck, while his
mother opened the back door of the cab. After gently
laying him on the seat, we went back for the second
one. This one was a couple of years older, a girl. I
was careful not to be too rough, so as not to wake
her. I carried her to the other side of the truck,
while the door was opened for me.

“Thanks,” I said. “They should be fine. I turned on
the seat heat for them.” I placed two small blankets
over them. “Hop in,” I said. It was good to get in
out of the rain.

“You’re soaked. Take off your coat. Here, I’ll help
you.” She obliged. I took her dripping wet coat and
hung it behind her seat. “And your hat. That looks
good on you. Here, just put it on the floor behind
me. I’ve got a cellphone. Do you want to call your
husband or someone?”

“No,” she answered. “There’s no one around to call.”

“Well, I can take you home.” I said. “Which way?”

“Up the Malahat to Shawnigan-Mill Bay Road.” I pulled
out of the lot and headed north. Just a mile ahead
was a Payless gas station, with a full store. I
pulled up to the door, happy to find it still open,
even after 11. I ran in and bought a humongous beach
towel.

I had left the heater blowing on full capacity, and
when I got back to the truck, I saw that my front
seat passenger had removed her shoes, and placed both
feet up on the dashboard to get dried off by the
blowing hot air. I thought it bold of her, being a
stranger, to put her feet up on my new truck, but
that was just the way she was. I was about to tell
her off, but the fragrance in that cab was heavenly,
with the fan blowing up her skirt, her pheromones
suffusing the air. I thought I would go crazy.

“Here’s a towel to dry yourself,” I said, trying to
think about something else. She sat up straight,
grabbed it, and thanked me. She opened it up.

“Wow. This is huge!” she exclaimed.

“Ya, it better be for $30. I hope it’s super
absorbent too.” She began drying her long, curly, red
hair. She looked so sexy, tossing her head around.
Then she started wiping the excess water off the arms
of her white sweater. They say beauty is in the eye
of the beholder, and I was doing a lot of beholding,
and seeing nothing but beauty.

“I bought you a Mars bar too. I thought you might be
hungry.”

“Oh, thank you,” she replied. “My favourite.” She
took a huge bite. The caramel dripped out the broken
end, and ran down her lower lip.

“You spilt some,” I said. She tried to lick it off
her lip, but by now it had dripped to her chin. “No.
You missed. It’s on your chin,” I explained. She
scooped some of it with her finger, then licked it
off. That was so hot, watching her tongue come out to
lick her finger. I was mesmerized by her mouth. There
was something about it, something, something sensual.

I tried to get my mind off of it. So I said something
stupid, something equally provocative. “I noticed
you’re wearing an ankle bracelet. Is there any
meaning to what ankle you wear it on?” I asked,
hoping to get some kind of reading on her.

“Well, I’ve read that one ankle means you’re
available, and the other means you’re open.”

“Open to what?” I asked.

“You know, you swing both ways,” she explained.

“So what one are you,” I asked hopefully. Either
answer would have excited me, especially since this
woman seated beside me was so beautiful. I could
still smell the scent of her pheromones from when the
fan was blowing up her skirt. The thought that she
might be available really sparked my desire. And just
picturing her kissing another woman, well, that was
too much to expect.

“I didn’t say,” she replied saucily. “It’s none of
your business.” By now, she was drying off nicely.
She kept working on drying her hair.

“Oh, the towel is caught in my hairpin. Can you help
me?” I leaned forward, reaching behind her head. The
towel had lodged under a wing of her butterfly pin. I
was able to wiggle it out.

“Thank you,” she said. Being so close to her, I
looked at her mouth again. I couldn’t help myself. I
became totally absorbed with those pouty, little
lips. Actually her lips looked large and luscious. I
could feel her breath on my face. We both became very
quiet, and still, not knowing what the other person
would do next. I slowly lifted my finger to her
mouth, and gently touched her lower lip.

“What?” she inquired. “Is there still some more
chocolate on me?”

I pulled her lip down, just to watch it spring up
again. “No, it’s just… it’s just…” I stammered.

“It’s just what?” she said.

“It’s just that your mouth looks so kissable. I just
want to kiss you.” She looked at me, shocked. She
clasped the door armrest, pulling back, pushing her
head against the headrest. I leaned closer, and
slowly put my lips on my finger that was touching her
mouth again. I slowly moved my finger away, leaving
nothing between our two mouths. I kissed her, ever so
gently, then pulled back to see her reaction.

She sat there, quiet, and holding her breath, with
such a look of innocence on her face, like a little
girl. But her alluring blue eyes belied her outward
appearance of innocence. I sensed an inner sensual
passion that she dared not release.

I leaned forward and kissed her gently again. I
looked in her eyes after that second kiss. Then I
looked at her sweet lips again, kissing them. She
remained perfectly still, holding her breath. I
kissed her, again and again.

“I’m married,” she blurted out.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind,” I assured her. “I just
can’t resist your mouth.” This time, I held her head
with both hands, and kissed her passionately on her
mouth. She didn’t flinch.

“You are so beautiful. I just want to keep kissing
you.” And I did. On about the fourth or fifth kiss,
her lips opened, ever so slightly. I felt just the
tip of her tongue slip between her lips. It was such
a sweet, innocent feeling that it reminded me when a
young girl taught me how to french-kiss. I gently
touched her warm tongue with mine. We gingerly kissed
for a minute or so.

“Don’t you care that I’m married?” she blurted out.

“I thought you said you had no one to call. Which is
it?” I replied.

“My husband left us, but I’m still legally bound,”
she said, respectful of her wedding vows.

“Well, I don’t want to make you feel guilty. It’s my
fault. I just couldn’t resist. You are so beautiful,
and your mouth, it’s so…so sensual. I just want to
kiss you all night. You could make me do anything you
want,” I confessed.

I sat back a little. In the glimmering light, I
noticed she was still wet from the rain. I saw that
the top buttons of her sweater had popped open, with
all the rubbing from the towel. I couldn’t help
notice her white bra. It had a plastic clasp on the
front.

“Is this one of those snap-locks on your bra?” I
asked, teasingly. I reached inside her open sweater
with my left hand, and squeezed the snap together. It
popped open as if it was spring-loaded under the
pressure of her full, delectable breasts. It seemed
her bra had disappeared, falling to the sides.

Her mouth opened in shock. Her nipples were huge, and
luscious-looking. I didn’t want to lose the moment of
her helplessness, due to her unbelief at my boldness.
So, I quickly slid my hand in under her right breast,
cupping it firmly, that lovely, fleshy breast. She
gasped, inhaling sharply. I accompanied my copping a
feel with another kiss. This time, she responded with
a full, wet kiss, darting her tongue deep inside my
mouth.

At first I thought it was the sweet smell of her
breath that turned me on. But then I realized it was
the taste of her saliva. It was delicious. I moved my
hand off her breast, and pulled her sweater to the
side of it. How beautiful, so succulent. I stopped
kissing her lips, and leaned down to her bare breast.
I held it with my left hand, and gently rolled my
tongue around her areola and nipple.

She felt such a burning sensation between her legs,
like melting warm butter. I loved how soft her skin
felt, but her nipple was going rock-hard. I lifted
her breast towards my mouth and began sucking her
nipple, wetting it with my saliva. She moaned. She
tasted so good! I noticed that her areola was getting
redder. Maybe it was my imagination, but her breasts
seemed to be enlarging.

“You have gorgeous breasts, and the perfect size.
Here, let me undo the last buttons, so I can see both
of them.” I fumbled with that last button, and then
pulled her sweater to the sides. She remained
motionless, stunned at my aggressiveness.

“Wow! Look at that! They’re so beautiful. Here, let
me kiss this one.” I slipped my hands inside her open
sweater, caressing her rib cage, sending an electric
shock throughout her entire body. I cupped her left
breast like it was a delicate melon, and began
kissing it all over, except the nipple itself,
wanting to tease her.

The heat coming off her body was so intense she had
steamed up all the windows. She was just aching with
a burning lust between her legs. She started pumping
her legs together, trying to get relief. She could
feel her juices flowing, drenching her knickers, and
dribbling down her cheeks and inner thighs. She
reached down and touched her aching spot.

She was so caught up in the passion. By now, her
clitoris was protruding out of its sheath, pushing
the fabric of her moist panties out. I let go of her
luscious breast and rested my left hand on her right
knee. I kept kissing her passionately. Her legs were
crossed. But as she got hotter and hotter with
desire, she uncrossed them, opening them ever so
slightly. I gently moved my hand to her left leg,
touching her inner thigh.

She grabbed my hand, and started pumping her legs
together and apart again, trying to get some relief.
As my hand moved slowly up her leg, she opened them
accordingly, a little bit at a time. Soon my fingers
touched the silky panties that were covering my
favourite part of a woman’s body.

As I slipped my tongue deeper into her mouth, I slid
my middle finger between her legs, rubbing her
bulging, fabric-covered lips. Her panties were wet
and warm. My finger slid easily up and down between
the silky-smooth moist crack in her knickers. She
began breathing heavily in my ear now. I pulled her
panties to one side, trying to feel her bare skin. I
wanted so much to touch her delicate flower petals. I
could feel her clitoris bulging, like it was trying
to escape. I slipped two fingers into her hot pussy.

The woman groaned and moaned with absolute pleasure.
Somehow I instinctively pulled her panties off, and
pushed my fingers back inside her. That’s when she
reached down with her right hand, and grabbed mine. I
thought she was going to pull my hand away, but to my
surprise, she placed her fingers over top of mine,
and led them to her bare pussy lips. Then she started
pushing my middle finger down and into her juicy
vagina, her finger on top of mine, entering her hot
pussy together.

She tilted her seat back to get a better angle. She
pushed our fingers deeper, putting upward pressure on
them, as we both pressed on her pubic bone. She was
so juicy that I could hear the squishing sound of her
nectar, as it dripped onto our fingers. As our
fingers slid in and out of her vagina, I rubbed her
engorged clitoris with my thumb, making circular
movements.

She began moaning louder. I pulled my fingers out of
her, and grabbed her clitoris with my thumb and
finger, pumping it up and down like a penis. She
moaned even louder now with pleasure, as I slipped
two fingers back inside her vagina. She started
biting her hand, to keep herself from screaming out
in ecstasy, and waking her kids. She rocked herself
up and down on my fingers.

It had been more than a year since any man had
touched her there. “What’s the difference,” she
thought, “if I let him do this, or I go home and
relieve myself with a banana?” like she had done
before.

I put my fingers, dripping with her juices, up to her
mouth, and rubbed them on her lips. Her tongue came
out like a hungry animal, and licked between my
fingers. I did the same, darting my tongue between my
first two fingers, as if it were her legs. We pressed
our mouths together, tongues lashing each other
between those fingers, like we were sharing a
delectable honeycomb.

I said, “You’re so delicious.”

She was so aroused now, she looked at me intently
with her passion-filled eyes, and said, “I want you
inside me.” I almost creamed my jeans. I was about to
get on the floor in front of her, put her feet up on
the dashboard, and lean in to lick and suck on her
juicy labia. I wanted to taste her so badly. Her
scent was driving me crazy.

But before I could move, she said, “No, I can’t do
this. Stop. Take me home.”

“What!” I exclaimed.

“Take me home, NOW!”

I reluctantly complied. I felt my cock was going to
explode. It wasn’t her fault. I should have never
kissed her, never awakened her latent desires. We
drove to her farm, not saying a word all the way. She
woke the kids, thinking it wasn’t a good idea to let
a strange man carry her kids into her matrimonial
home. The kids walked groggily up to the front door.

“I guess I was too aggressive. Tell me. Was it that
last kiss?”

“No,” she replied. It was the first one. That was one
kiss too many. I told you I was married,” she said
scoldingly.

She was about to walk out of my life when I said,
“Here’s my number,” handing her my landscaping
business card. “Call me if you need help with your
car. Just remember, I’m the one who wants to be with
you.” She took the card, reluctantly. “What’s your
name?” I asked.

“Donna,” she replied, and walked away. The taste of
her lips was still on my tongue, and the smell of her
pheromones on my fingers was intoxicating. I groaned
deep inside, never having wanted a woman so badly
before. My senses had been drenched in her libidinous
desires. I finally understood what a MILF was. She
was every bit a MILF, and then some. She would be the
girl I would dream about for some time. I wanted her
so bad I could taste it.

“Donna,” I said out loud. “What a hottie. I want you
so bad.” I drove off, leaving my dream girl behind.

To be continued?