Sunday, December 25, 2022

Savior in dire need

 Punctual closing time. It wasn't normal back then. But sometimes it worked. It was 4:30 p.m. on a sunny summer day and I was already on my way home. My thoughts were intensely occupied with the rest of the afternoon.

Should I go swimming? Or visit Frank? I had promised him that I would come by sometime to help him restore his vintage car.

I had to wait at the pedestrian traffic light on Paradestrasse. Many cars whizzed by, but I was glad that I was walking in this beautiful weather. This also gave me the opportunity to buy an ice cream at the kiosk at the next crossing, a little cooling off for the rest of my way home.

At the sales booth, a lady was served before me. She had bought a magazine and was putting it on top of one of her three overstuffed shopping bags. "Damn," she cursed under her breath as the magazine threatened to fall.

I looked at the ice cream offer poster to choose which flavor to buy. Only from the corner of my eye did I notice that the woman was now moving away, with a sluggish step, which was probably due to the weight of her bags.

“Caribia” would have been my favorite, but before I could tell the seller my wish, I heard a high-pitched scream. The newspaper buyer was lying on the sidewalk about ten meters from the kiosk. She must have fallen.

I rushed over to it, almost tripping over one of her bags, the contents of which were strewn across the sidewalk. "What happened? Can I help you?” I asked worried.

"Help me to my feet," the lady, who had rolled onto her side, begged me through sobs. Her skirt, which was very short anyway, had slipped very far up, she tried to pull it down a bit again. She moaned and groaned miserably. "I think there's something wrong with my foot."

I stretched out my arms, the woman grabbed my hands and tried to pull herself up. It did not work. So I grabbed her arm and gently lifted her to the vertical. When she stood again, she let out a scream.

"The foot, it's the foot." The woman put an arm around my neck on her shoulder, clinging to me. She only stood on one leg, she didn't put any weight on her obviously injured foot. "I think I sprained it."

"Hopefully nothing's broken," I said, "maybe we should call an ambulance?" I looked at the kiosk, but the salesman was not to be seen in his sales hatch. Did he even have a phone in his pad?

"No, no, not necessary. No ambulance. I'm sure I'll be right again.” The woman stepped very carefully and timidly with her aching foot, moaned tearfully again, and clung even tighter to me. "May I hold on a little longer?" she asked.

"Of course!" I grabbed her around the waist. So supported, she took a cautious step. "Pooh," she groaned, but she walked on unsteadily. "I think I'm slowly getting back on my feet."

After a few meters she released her arm from my shoulder and grabbed my hand. "If you give me a little support, I'll be fine."

I slowly led the woman to a bike rack for her to hold on to. I then rushed to the sidewalk to collect their bags and contents. "It's very nice that you're doing this," exclaimed the woman, "I'm really lucky in my misfortune!"

I stowed away some groceries and some cosmetics that were lying on the sidewalk, then I stood in front of the woman with the three fully packed bags. "Are you sure you can walk properly again?"

"I'll just try it," she replied, "give me my groceries."

"Out of the question," I replied, "tell me where you're going, I'll carry the bags for you."

I guess I'd have to cancel swimming or visiting Frank now, and I'd already ticked off the ice cream anyway. Because I couldn't just leave the injured woman with her heavy luggage to her own devices.

Despite her suffering, she made a very nice impression. I estimated her age to be in her mid to late 30s, she looked very attractive and well-groomed, and a happy smile appeared on her pretty face.

"Would you really do that? That would be incredibly nice. I live right on the next cross street, it's not far at all."

"No problem, I'll be happy to carry your things home," I said, feeling like a young cavalier, "The main thing is that you can do it yourself".

"If not, then I have a real support in you." The woman was laughing at me now. She tried to take a few steps. Obviously she was in pain because she took several, audible, deep breaths. "Well then," she gasped, "let the march begin."

Ten minutes later it was done. Mrs. Perlmann – I read her name on the doorbell – invited me into the living room after I had put my bags down in the kitchen.

She thanked me several times for my willingness to help. And she also opened a bottle of sparkling wine with the remark that I would certainly not refuse a small sip as a thank you.

Of course I didn't refuse. Sparkling wine has never been my favorite drink, but when it's offered in such a charming way...

Of course, the first topic of conversation was the fall. Ms. Perlmann blamed a wobbly sidewalk slab for this, but also shared the blame. "I was still struggling with the three bags, so I wasn't paying any attention to where I was stepping."

Her injured ankle, meanwhile, was a bit swollen. I advised her to see a doctor, but she refused. "I still have an old multipurpose ointment that will help," she said, limping towards the bathroom to get the cure.

Meanwhile, I looked around curiously. The large living room was tastefully furnished, with modern furniture made of light wood, a leather-covered, noble sofa, with a huge, soft, light-colored carpet. Through the large window I saw a well-tended garden.

On a sideboard I discovered a picture of Ms. Perlmann when she was younger. She wasn't as blonde then as she is now. The man pictured at her side is probably Herr Perlmann. A considerably older and very fortunate husband. At least that's what he looked like in the picture.

Ms. Perlmann was coquettish in this photo. With a sensuous expression on her face, she almost languished at her husband. One of her halfway covered breasts she pressed very tightly to her husband's upper arm.

Now Mrs. Perlmann appeared again in person, and her strikingly lush breasts were emblazoned right in front of my eyes. Because she bent far over to me to show me the ointment. "Do you think this stuff might help me?"

I didn't look at the ointment, I just looked at her breasts. They swayed loosely under the thin fabric of her pink blouse, not confined in a brassiere, so her nipples were also clearly visible.

She was just wearing a bra, I was absolutely sure of that. When I helped her to her feet, when she clung to me, when I helped her take her first steps, she was wearing a bra. I could even feel it when I accidentally placed my grip on her waist a little too high.

Now she came back from the bathroom without a bra. What did that mean?

Meanwhile, Ms. Perlmann opened the tube, hesitated for a moment and said: "It would be a relief for me if you could apply the ointment. May I ask you for this small favor?”

She didn't even wait for my answer. She pulled a second chair right in front of my knees, dropped onto it and rested her bare leg on my thighs.

"Of course, I'm happy to do that!" I didn't question why it might be difficult for her to rub her foot herself. Suddenly I really liked touching Frau Perlmann again, even the foot was fine with me.

I spread a little ointment on the swollen ankle, massaging it gently. "Aaaah, that's good," the woman sighed, "you're doing really well".

She now spread her other leg a little, so that the hem of her skirt slipped higher. I had already noticed the shapely legs with pleasure, now my eyes could wander further up.

No, I wasn't interested in her panties! I quickly averted my gaze. Frau Perlmann now had her eyes closed, and now and then a moan of pleasure came from her slightly open mouth.

I added a bit more ointment and now massaged a little more forcefully. I noticed that her breasts were now swinging ever so slightly to the rhythm of my massage. And I also noticed that her dark nipples erected steeply.

A glorious sight that had an impact on my pants. My phallus rose, it was soon visibly stretching the thin fabric of the light summer trousers. But Frau Perlmann didn't notice, she still kept her eyes closed.

I had already anointed my foot for a few minutes, now it should be over. Although I would have liked to continue.

Mrs. Perlmann seemed to sense my thoughts. "It's a shame I didn't twist my knee," she said abruptly, and as she said this she shifted forward in her seat a little, presumably so that her knee was within reach of me.

With that movement, the foot of her outstretched leg inadvertently slipped further, bumping into my hard cock, which was now like a mast in my pants.
"Olala," she laughed immediately, "did the doctor also plan an injection for me?"

Her toes felt their way along my post. I couldn't find the words now. I didn't know how to react at all.

In front of me sat a sexy woman who aroused me. Sexy looking, a bit older than me but still highly attractive. Did she want to seduce me?

We didn't know each other! The woman was married! I had a girlfriend I didn't want to cheat on!

The thoughts swirled through my head. But they were overlapped by a strong feeling: I was horny!

Her foot stroked my cock, her hands just unbuttoned the blouse a little more. Her wonderfully large tits were only half covered, her bulging, stiff nipples pushed through the fabric of her blouse.

Mrs. Perlmann leaned forward. The insight into her blouse was now even more exciting.
Her foot left my lap, but her hands slowly slid up my thighs to my stand. I didn't move, motionless I let her do it.

"I know what you need now," she whispered in a soft voice.

She unzipped and unzipped the waistband, lifted my shorts and grabbed my cock. "You need me!"

I couldn't hold back now. I reached out to her greedily, my hands quickly moving from her hips to her waist to her breasts. I twisted her stiff nipples through the fabric. Then I undid two more buttons on her blouse and pulled out the two luscious balls of meat.

Mrs. Perlmann threw back her head so that the two balloons bounced. "You like them, do you like big things?"

"I've never seen such wonderful ti..., uh, breasts," I answered, already a little breathless, because the massage that Mrs. Perlmann gave my best piece, excited me a lot.

"You can say boobs because I'm proud of them and I'm glad you like them too."

After a short pause she continued. "And you can also say ***** if you want to ***** me . Do you want to?”

Of course, I wanted to. Nothing better than that. Thoughts of my girlfriend and Herr Perlmann had long been suppressed.

The hands that worked so lovingly on my cock almost drove me insane. I was about to spit my juice out.

"Yes, I want to fuck you , I want it!" Excited, I yelled at her. "Come on!"

I lifted my buttocks a little, Mrs. Perlmann interpreted this movement correctly, she freed me from pants and panties. Then she got up.

For a moment I had doubts. "Do you want it too?" I asked and, like her before, fell into the familiar first form, "do you really want it?

" I was already keen on you when my foot was still hurting like hell".

The sight that now met my eyes filled me with delight. That slender waist and above it the voluminous breasts that hung just enough to be flexible, plus the dark, steeply pointing, hard nipples - unconsciously I reached out for my swollen cock to clearly present it to this wonderful woman.

"I felt your strong body and I knew immediately that you are the right one for me, that you have a cock that can make me happy."

Mrs. Perlmann turned around and stripped off her tight skirt. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, she had probably taken her panties off in the bathroom with her bra. That's why the clear offer to take a look under her skirt.

I didn't dwell on the thought that I was part of a purposeful staging here. Because my horniness increased with each of her movements.

She presented me swinging her behind. Strong, crisp, shapely. She walked backwards towards me. "Sit very still and be ready."

She lowered herself carefully onto my lap, one hand grabbed my post and led him unerringly into her wet grotto. "Aaaah!" As if on command, we both moaned at the same time. "Aaaah, how good!"

Her pussy was tightly wrapped around my rod, Mrs. Perlmann only moved very slowly, up and down and also slightly rotating. I saw before me her magnificent behind, her slender waist, her straight back and her long blond hair.

My hands caressed her buttocks, then groped their way forward over her thighs, over the soft pubic hair and flat stomach to her breasts. The two balls now lay heavily in my palms. I lifted her slightly, letting her rock a little.

"Yes, play with my tits ... and hold them tight." Mrs. Perlmann was now also short of breath. She was highly aroused, the movements of her abdomen became faster and faster and accompanied by deep moans.

How wildly she rode on my tail now. I tried to pick up her rhythm, braced myself against her, hammered my stake into her from below. She let out small, high-pitched screams.

"Yeah yeah yeah go on **** me hard...I'm about to cum...about!"

My hands couldn't hold her bouncing tits now. Frau Perlmann's head was thrown back, her whole body was jerking uncontrollably.

I too was about to be shot. To delay the end, I stopped my movements.

"No, no, don't stop now!" Mrs. Perlmann practically shrieked. "Go on, I need to feel you now, finish me off!"

I felt that my orgasm was imminent and I rammed my hot cock into the soaking wet pussy with all my might.

"Jaaaaaaaaa!" A long scream and violent convulsions of her body signaled the violent orgasm of the woman.

"Aaaah... aaaah, it's coming... it's coming." I too cried out my ecstasy now. I ******* with tremendous force , my cock seemed to explode, my juice kept shooting into her insatiable cave.

Mrs. Perlmann trembled one last time, then she let herself fall back, exhausted. Her back was now on my stomach. Our sweat, which we have shed profusely, mingled. Together we breathed out our exhaustion.

After a little while she sat up again with a groan and swung herself off me, my pumped-out cock slipping out of her noisily.

Mrs. Perlmann stood in front of me, her face was still red, her gaze lovingly wandered over my body. "We should rest a little now," she said with a mischievous look, "come on and let's go to bed."

An hour later I knew every square centimeter of Perlmann's double bed. Blankets and pillows were all over the place, the sheets were rumpled. But I also knew every millimeter of the body of this amazing woman who had proven to be a master of lovemaking.

After a true erotic marathon, we lay snuggled up against each other diagonally on the spacious bed. "Oh, it was wonderful," whispered Mrs. Perlmann, whom I was now allowed to call Petra, "you really were my savior in dire need."

And she immediately explained to me that she didn't just mean my help with her fall. She was also "in dire need" sexually, since her husband showed little interest in marital pleasures and hardly ever slept with her.

A crisp, potent guy like me came at just the right time for her. "Because I need a hard cock every once in a while," she confessed, "I'm not too old for it by a long shot."

I could confirm this. And when I immediately offered to help out as a "rescuer in dire need" from time to time, Petra smiled happily. “I am happy to take up this offer. How about tomorrow afternoon?”

We spontaneously arranged to meet up for the next day. But then a look at the clock startled us.

Now time was of the essence. Because around 7 p.m. Mr. Perlmann usually returned from his work as a branch manager of a major financial institution.

We only had a quarter of an hour left. We hurriedly got dressed again, Petra removed all traces of our lively goings-on in the apartment, she even opened the windows.

In the hallway she hugged me tightly in goodbye, and suddenly her lips were on mine. We hadn't kissed before, now we sank into a wild smooch. The game of our tongues aroused me again, my actually drained ***** stretched again.
Petra felt it and immediately stroked my baggy pants. "Save everything for tomorrow." Then, with gentle pressure, she pushed me toward the front door.

I went home happily. Such a day, as beautiful as today! I couldn't believe what had happened to me. I of all people was chosen to please this classy woman.

The next day I tried very hard to finish work on time. It worked, and just under half an hour later I was in Petra's arms.

In the years that followed, we met several times a week, as often as we could. My already strained relationship with Manuela finally broke up. What did it matter? I was now, after all, the lover of the most exciting woman around.

Our secret relationship lasted almost a year. It only ended when I couldn't prevent my professional transfer. More than 400 kilometers then separated me from Petra Perlmann.

We spoke on the phone a few more times, but then the contact fell asleep completely. It was certainly my fault, because far from home I got to know and love Simone. She pushed the thoughts of Petra out of my head pretty quickly.

Eight years have passed since then. I recently returned to my hometown without Simone. We divorced two years ago.

As a single in the so-called "best years" I am now looking for a new partner. Or an old one. In any case, the memory of Petra returned immediately in the familiar surroundings.

And when I was recently driving – purely by accident, of course – in the area where she lives, I even saw her from afar. She just came out of her house with an empty shopping bag in hand.

My path immediately took me to the near of the kiosk at the intersection of Paradestrasse. Here I waited in the car and looked to see if she – like she used to – bought another magazine.

Petra didn't come. Too bad. Because she was, I had been able to convince myself of that with a quick glance beforehand, still an attractive, sexy woman.

And that's why I'm now around 4:30 p.m. more often in the vicinity of the kiosk. Eventually she might come, and then I'm sure it won't take a fall for me to rush to her.

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