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Parts of the story refers to memories, related by the main character, when they were all underage but there is no sex when they were underage. They are all over 18 in this story. The characters, location etc are completely fictitious.
* * * * *
If you know anything about California, especially Southern California, you know that Blythe, California is one of the hottest places in North America, second only to Needles and Death Valley.
Me and my two girlfriends grew up in this hot hellhole and since we were pretty much born here, this was home. My name is Chrissie. With my two other girlfriends, Marcie and Cindy, we were always together hanging out, getting in trouble, comparing notes about guys, the usual stuff.
Marcie was fast-talking and fearless; she never missed a thing. She was able to talk herself into, or out of, almost anything. Marcie had shortish brown hair and big pretty brown eyes. She was thin and hyper, no ass to speak of but she had a nice pair of boobs.
Cindy was almost the opposite. She was little on the chubby side with small breasts; poor thing. She had blond hair but did have a cute face with big full lips. Along with those lips came the tendency to say what ever came into her head, most of the time without thinking about it first.
Marcie and Cindy always called me the “pretty one”. I was quiet, with light brown hair and big green eyes, and I have to admit, with bigger boobs than Marcie and Cindy put together.
About 3 or 4 years ago, I think Marcie was 14, she befriended this guy down the street from her house. Marcie would just wander the neighborhood being her typical restless self, just looking for something to do, and one day, a couple of blocks from her house, she hears music. It sounds like “live” music, not the radio or a CD. It’s just a single guitar.
Marcie follows the sound to a non-de-script house and in Marcie’s fearless manner, just walks in.
There sitting on a stool, is a guy just playing guitar. Blues guitar, I guess (he would later call it “R&B” or just “Blues”).
Marcie noticed that he didn’t seem to notice her at first. Then he stopped playing and said: “Hello? Someone there?”
Marcie then realized he was blind.
“Hi” Marcie said, “I just heard the cool guitar from outside and followed the sound. Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in on you”
“That’s OK” he said.
“You play guitar really good” Marcie said.
“Well” he declared.
“Huh?” Marcie was confused.
“You play guitar really ‘WELL'” he corrected her.
“Oh. Got it. Yeah. You play guitar really well” Marcie repeated, almost like she was in class.
“Thank you. Thank you very much…” he said, with an obvious Elvis twang. Marcie laughed.
“My name is Marcie” Marcie declared.
“Nice to meet you Marcie. My name is Steve”.
Steve put his hand out to shake, his eyes and head looking in a different direction from where his hand was.
Marcie walked around to his hand and politely shook it.
Steve went back to playing. After about 5 minutes, Marcie, always hyper and restless, in her usual way, said: “Can I bum a cigarette?”
“How old are you?” Steve asked.
“Ummm, I’m going to be 15 in another two months” said Marcie defensively.
“Hell, no you can’t bum a cigarette!” “Why aren’t you in school?”
“It’s summer!” Marcie said, with a tone of “DUH!”
“Well I’m kinda busy right now. Maybe you should just run along” Steve grumbled.
“OK” Marcie said, a little let down.
“Can I come back sometime and bring my girlfriends so we can listen to you play?” Marcie asked.
“Sure, sure… We’ll see you later” Steve said, with a polite but obvious tone that said “leave”.
Marcie met us later and we talked about the usual stuff and she told us all about the blind guitar player down her street.
During the rest of that summer and a few more summers after that, we would drop in on Steve once or twice a week and drive him crazy.
Marcie kept trying to bum cigarettes. He finally let her have one after she turned 16. Then she started asking him to let us have a beer.
“OK. That’s it. Out. See you later. No beer” and pointed (sort of) toward the door.
We left, but we’d come back in a few days and he’d be cool, like it never happened.
We just liked hanging out at Steve’s as it was a place to go. In Blythe, there was NO place to go. He was pretty cool, just played his guitar and let us hang around as long we didn’t get him too irritated. He also had A/C!
When it was really hot (which was most of the time), Steve would just wear an old tattered pair of gym shorts. The gym shorts looked 20 years old, with holes and tears and so thin there wasn’t much holding ’em together.
We would hang out and listen to him play, and with him wearing these old shorts, I could pretty easily tell that he had a huge dick.
One day, the three of us were hanging around at the park talking about stuff when Cindy, as usual, just blurted out, “Have you guys noticed that Steve has a huge dick?”
Marcie, always the cool one, “Yeah, Cindy” looking pendik escort at me for confirmation, “It’s a little hard to miss.”
One time he was playing on his guitar stool and we could all clearly see the full length of his dick through his shorts and after he drank a few beers, he was really getting into his guitar playing, almost all of his dick was just hanging out. The three of us just looked at each other in amazement. He must have felt a draft or something because he quickly pulled his shorts around to cover himself up but it was a little bit of a struggle as he had a LOT to cover up. We looked at each other and silently giggled.
Marcie started calling him “Blind Melon” as a joke from the old Cheech and Chong “Blind Melon Chitlin” about the black, blind, blues guitar player with the huge dick.
Marcie would call him “Blind Melon” and he would just go along with it, until once he finally asked:
“What’s with the ‘Blind Melon’?”
Marcie just said, “You know the old joke stereotype. The black, blind, blues guitar player, except you’re not black. It’s just a silly nickname.”
We found out during our many annoying visits that he had written a couple of hit songs years ago and so didn’t really need to work since he lived off the royalties. He also got into a terrible car wreck which blinded him about 7 years ago. He also gets a check every month from an insurance company because of the wreck and being blinded.
One day after drinking a few beers, he confessed to us that the wreck and becoming blind took all his musical inspiration. He said he just didn’t have the old “mojo” as he called it, for songwriting. He also largely stopped dating. He didn’t really want to go through the trials and hassles of finding a woman who was also blind, but he knew that dating a sighted woman brought it’s own set of challenges so he basically gave up.
The following summer, it was ANOTHER hot day in Blythe (who could have guessed?), and the power was out all over town from the heat wave. Even for Blythe, this was HOT. Marcie suggested we go hang out at Steve’s since there was nothing else to do. It was at least 110 degrees and it was only early afternoon.
We walked into Steve’s place and, as usual he was sitting on his stool, playing his guitar. It was really warm inside but there was a breeze coming from somewhere.
“How do you have fans going and the TV on?” Cindy asked.
“Got a little Honda generator out back. I use it for times like now.” Steve said.
“My God. It’s got to be over 100 in here!” Marcie said.
“That’s why there’s three fans going and my handy-dandy ‘Blind Melon’ swamp cooler.” joked Steve, at his own expense, said and went back to playing.
Steve had nothing on except the same old gym shorts. No shirt, no shoes.
Cindy, in her typical fashion, just blurted out: “With those ratty old gym shorts you have on, you may as well be naked. There’s hardly anything left of ’em. It’s so hot in here anyways”
Steve deadpanned, “That’s exactly what I do on hot nights when no one’s around”
Cindy asked, “You play naked?”
Steve simply replied, “Yup”
Cindy, again just blurted out: “That’s awesome!” Cindy caught herself and, realizing she was being quite revealing about what she was thinking, covered her mouth and just looked at the floor.
Marcie cut in, “Well, hey, just pretend we’re not here. Like Cindy said about the shorts, it’s not like there’s much left to the imagination.”
“I don’t know…” Steve said.
“Come on” Marcie insisted. “We’re not going to say anything to anyone, and besides it’s not like we’re a bunch of prudes.”
“Well….” Steve stammered.
A sudden thought struck Marcie and she turned to Cindy and I: “Hey, you know what you guys? It’s like over a hundred degrees in here, right?”
“Yeah…” Cindy and I agreed.
“Let’s take our tops off. If you were home alone right now, would you be wearing a top?” Marcie asked.
“No way” I said.
“Me either” Cindy agreed.
“Well, ‘Blind Melon’ over here won’t be able to tell (smirking and gesturing toward Steve) and we’ll be able to cool off in front of the fans and hear him play”.
We both nodded.
Marcie started pulling her top off right away and snapped off her bra, turned toward one of the fans and let it blow on her breasts, which had that moist glow of perspiration.
We immediately followed suit. It was SO hot, we didn’t care anymore. Steve was playing his guitar and oblivious. It felt wonderful to feel the cool breeze and it also felt kind of scary to be hopping around the room half-naked with this man just a couple of feet away.
I always wondered to myself: Is Steve like, completely blind, or can he see a little? Is he totally faking it?
Now there were three paris of young breasts bouncing around his living room and he was completely oblivious to it so I was convinced: He was 100% blind.
“Ok, ‘Blind Melon'” Marcie said in her kidding but always sarcastic way.
“What?” asked Steve.
“The three of us are practically naked. We took off our tops to cool off so you escort pendik have to drop your bottoms” Marci declared in a tone made her almost sounded like a referee.
“OK.” Steve said and stood up.
We all stood there motionless. He dropped his shorts and without hesitation, started to pick up his guitar, and the word escaped my mouth before I had a chance to think:
“Whoa!” apparently escaped from my mouth. I guess now I knew how Cindy felt.
Cindy, as usual had her usual phrase to blurt: “That is awesome!”
“What, what?” Steve said.
Marcie, cool as always, and never at a loss for words, said, “I guess there was a lot more left to the imagination than we thought!”
“Come on, you guys.” Steve protested.
Marcie simply stated, “Well, you have, like a porn-star sized dick and we are all pretty impressed.”
“I just want to play my guitar.” said Steve.
“Go ahead and play. We’re just sitting here with our boobs hanging out, feeling the nice breeze and watching the show.”
“Obviously, I have to take your word for it.” Steve said.
“Word for what?” asked Marcie.
“Well, I have to take your word for it that you all took your tops off…” Steve said.
“You don’t believe me?” Marcie asked. “Here. I’ll prove it.”
Steve said, “I believe you…”
“No, no. I’ll prove it. Hold your hand out.” Marcie ordered
Steve hesitated. “It’s OK…”
“I mean it. Put your hand out.” Marcie ordered again.
Steve, almost like a dog being asked to “shake” put his hand out. Once again, his head was looking off at a different angle.
I was watching all this happen like a dream when I am jolted to reality with Marcie grabbing my arm and pushing me toward Steve.
“Marcie!” I whispered. “What are you doing?!”
Marcie whispered back rapidly, “Chrissie, just let him feel your breast and it will be over. Steve’s not a horndog, you know that. He’ll be a gentleman.”
“You do it!” I said.
“Chris, you have bigger boobs than the two of us put together! I thought he might like to be ‘impressed’ like we were.”
Marcie has this amazing effect on people. She’s talked Steve into stripping naked, she’s talked Cindy and I into stripping almost naked, and now I’m about to let a man feel my breast to prove that we have our tops off to a blind man.
For reasons I don’t understand, I obey. I move forward and barely touch my right breast against his hand. He responds immediately but so gently! He touches the skin very lightly. His fingers are BARELY touching my skin. His fingers follow the outline of my, yes, rather large breast. His fingers feel the underside of my breast and his hand ever-so-gently cups my breast, almost to get a sense of the weight. He then turns his hand over and runs the back of his fingers gently as possible, across my nipple. My heart is pounding. I am panting but trying not to be obvious. I am surging with pleasure at this man’s ultra sensitive touch.
He swiftly brings his hand back down, and it looks like he is also trying not to pant.
“OK. I believe you. That was very, very nice.” Steve said, trying to compose himself.
I stepped back with Marcie and Cindy. I felt a little self-conscious but Marcie was totally cool. Cindy was spellbound and couldn’t take her eyes off his dick.
Steve’s dick was obviously aroused. Not completely hard but, as impressive as it was at first, now it was just plain magnificent.
Steve sat on his guitar stool, had on his headphones and just kept playing. We all just sat on the floor and watched (I mean listened!) to him play. He did play really well but in addition to that, now all three of us were spellbound. As he played, his body was moving slightly with the rhythm of the music and this “big swinging dick” was swaying back and forth in time with the music.
Steve stopped playing, took off his headphones and lit a cigarette. His guitar was settled in his lap between his legs and below the guitar was this almost disembodied, huge hanging penis. When he played, it swayed, when he stopped, it stopped.
Cindy, as usual, said, “That is awesome!”
“You like that song?” Steve asked innocently.
Marcie almost had to act as interpreter: “Cindy’s in love with your dick. When you play, it swings back and forth and it’s driving her crazy.”
“Marcie!” Cindy said, obviously embarrassed at Marcie’s brutally honest assessment.
“I like the music too.” Cindy said, trying to wiggle out of being so clearly pegged.
“I have some things to do, so you guys should get going.” Steve said.
“OK.” I said. “Thanks for the music.” I said, trying to be respectful.
We got dressed and started to leave. We were outside when I realized I forgot my cell phone.
“I left my phone. I’ll be right back.” I ran back in.
Steve was still sitting on the stool, smoking another cigarette.
“I forgot my phone.” I said.
I hesitated for a few seconds. I wanted get another look at his huge penis one more time but he had already put his shorts back on.
I just had to tell him: “I just wanted to say that the pendik escort bayan way you touched my breast was so wonderful, so sensual!”
He looked puzzled. “Wait. I thought that was Marcie’s breast….”
I explained, “Marcie ‘volunteered’ me because I have the biggest boobs.”
Steve said simply, “Your breast felt beautiful. Silky soft skin, especially your nipple.”
I was starting to pant again and I could see Steve’s dick fattening up through his shorts up as he recalled the experience.
“Would you like it if I came back another time and you could feel both my breasts?”
“I would love that.” he said.
“You want me to come back tonight?” I asked trying not to sound too eager.
“What time?” Steve asked.
I said, “Maybe around 11:00 or so…”
“I’ll be here…” said Steve.
I went back with Marcie and Cindy.
The three of us hung out for the rest of the day and I couldn’t wait for tonight.
I waited until 11:20 and walked into Steve’s entryway.
“Hello.” I called out.
“In here. In my usual spot.” Steve said.
I walked in and there he was, playing his guitar. Naked. He stopped playing.
“Go ahead and finish the song. You play really well.”
“Thanks” said Steve simply.
After he finished the song, I walked up to him and said: “Since you’re naked, maybe I should be naked.”
Steve simply smiled and started playing ‘The Stripper’, that song you always hear for strippers.
I started to playfully take my clothes off when I realized that he was not going to get any thrill out of it, so I just slipped out of my clothes.
“Put your hands out.” I said, doing my best ‘Marcie’ impression.
Steve held out his hands. I took his hands and led them to my breasts.
Steve gently caressed both of my breasts. He traced the outline of both of my breasts with each hand and ran his thumbs over my nipples. He gently squeezed them together. Again he used the back of his fingers and hands to feel my breasts all over. It was agonizingly wonderful! His touch was so light and careful that I could hardly stand it!
I could see Steve’s dick swelling up and rising right in between my legs. I could swear I could feel the heat from his monster penis radiating onto my thighs.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel my pussy throbbing.
“Would you like me to bring my breasts up to your mouth?” I asked. I found myself asking questions in an odd way because of his blindness, but at the same time, it was also sexy.
“Yes, Chrissie, please…” Steve said, obviously excited.
I stood up and leaned toward him and put my left breast near his face. He inhaled deeply.
“I love that smell….”
“Smell?” I thought. I was confused but before I could ask, he said:
“I love the smell and taste of a woman’s nipples.”
I had to ask: “There’s a smell?”
“Oh yeah!” Steve said. “Maybe from the blindness; I don’t think most women are even aware of it. The smell is so wonderful! It’s a smell of a woman’s nipples. It only comes from the nipple. It’s impossible to describe. It’s earthy and sexy and incredible.”
Before I had a chance to think about it, he had my nipple in his mouth. He sucked it so gently and then sucked my other nipple. He rolled his tongue in a circle around the tip of my nipples three of four times and then would gently suck the tip. Between his hands being so gentle and his mouth and tongue super sensitive to my breasts, I was ready to explode with an orgasm!
I said, “You know what I would love to do now?” Before he could answer, I said, “I would love to massage your penis with my breasts.”
Steve said, “Oh yes…..”
I dropped down to my knees and squished my breasts together. His penis was full but not completely erect; His dick was really long and fat so the weight of it made it hang even when it was mostly hard. With my breasts squished together, I began to let myself drool (which wasn’t hard to do!) into my cleavage. There was a glistening river of spit sitting in my cleavage. I came up underneath his penis and scooped it up in my cleavage. I let his penis rest there between my breasts. I was breathing so hard, I wasn’t sure what I was doing but then I spread my breasts apart just slightly and with my saliva, I could feel his heavy dick sink in between my breasts. I began to immediately massage my breasts together with both hands “choo-choo” style, massaging his incredible penis in between.
He began to moan: “Oh, yeah!”
I kept up the massaging and his dick was growing so much that it was now poking up from between my breasts and I could easily kiss the head of it if he would let me.
“I would love to kiss your penis if you would let me.” I said.
Steve almost yelled, “Oh, Chrissie.”
I immediately dropped my breasts and took his penis into my hands. I kissed the head just as I said I would. I kissed it with a more loose pucker on my lips and the wet part of the inside of my lips were sliding around the head of his penis. It was incredible.
I hated to torture him but I said: “I need to let your penis rest for a few minutes. I’m sorry but it’s so fat that I can hardly fit it into my mouth. If your penis softens up a little, I will suck it all the way into my mouth and I will suck you like you’ve never been sucked.”
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