Sunday morning. For some reason I woke up horny as a bitch! After Harry’s powerhouse pounding I thought I’d never need another dose of sex, but I’d underestimated my pussy’s recuperative powers. It itched subtly with longing for more carnality, a longing that no amount of masturbation could satisfy.
It was sunny and fresh outside. The morning air wafted in through my open window and I thought of climbing into Veronica’s room for breakfast. I was too comfortable in my own bed, though. It was a real tussle between creature comforts and creature needs, and while the battle raged on in slow motion, my father called out from his room to ask me to pick up the Sunday paper from the porch.
“Okay Daddy.” I slipped on a nightie over my nakedness and tripped down the stairs to get the paper for him. On the way up my mother passed me to go to the kitchen and prepare breakfast. Sunday breakfast was a big occasion in our house. She always whipped up large batches of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and when it was all set out on the table along with the coffee, she called us down to join her. Tim came out of his room and went downstairs to help her. He and Mum were very close but he only helped her when he was in an exceptionally generous mood.
My father lay on his side of the bed with the bed-clothes arranged neatly up to his waist. The deep tan he’d acquired in the Virgin Islands some weeks earlier still lingered, and when he sat up to receive the papers I couldn’t help but marvel at his physique. His stomach was still flat and hard, greying hairs grew in a small clump in the center of his chest, his shoulders were broad and smooth, and when he reached for the papers his muscles rippled ever so slightly, just enough to indicate his strength. At once my imagination leapt back to the shower incident and filled in the missing details: his narrow hips, the large brown appendage dangling from his belly, the strong thighs. The itch deep inside my pussy was no longer subtle. It was downright crude!
“Come on, lie down next to me a while,” said Daddy, patting the bed beside him. “In a few days you’ll belong to another man and you’ll never be my girl again.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said, moving over toward him and embracing him fondly. “Nothing ever comes between a girl and her father.”
“Not even the sheets?” Dad laughed at his own joke and hugged me back. “It’s a strange feeling, though,” he said soberly. “I keep thinking about when you were little and you’d run into our room every Sunday morning. Do you remember? We used to wrestle and play until we were all tired and we’d have a second sleep, the four of us. And now…” He looked very sad and I decided he needed to be cheered up.
“We can still wrestle,” I said, jumping up and straddling his hips to grab hold of both his arms and pin them back. “There’s no law saying dads and daughters can’t wrestle beyond age five, is there?”
“Only the law of the jungle,” said Dad, and he pretended that I was as strong as he. We pushed and pulled at each other, laughing, running out of breath. He could have thrown me off the bed at any time, of course, but he wanted to play. Strange things were happening in my mind as we wrestled. I kept seeing his face in different ways. One moment he was my father, familiar, trusted, second-nature; the next he was a complete stranger, and then he was handsome, strong, sexy! I began to fight harder as if to dispel these switching illusions. He fought harder in return. Our faces were perilously close together. I got the feeling that a kiss was prevented only in the nick of time.
And then something else happened. As one we became aware that the father-daughter relationship was crumbling faster than either of us could handle. There was a reason for this: my nightie had slipped up over the tops of my thighs so that my pussy was showing; and, worse, my cunt was hard against his cock. Daddy’s cock was as hard as it had been the other day and it lay back so that the groove of my cunt fitted over it neatly. We stopped wrestling and for a moment our eyes met with a question. I wanted to stop. Panic seized me. It was bad enough that I was fucking my own brother but now my father? What could be next, my mother?
A tremor ran through me and that thought was blocked out at once. We sat frozen in our position. His cock throbbed against my naked cunt and I realized that I couldn’t pull away. I had to have more of him even if that only meant contact without penetration. What was Daddy thinking? It was impossible to tell. Without thinking any further I started to slide back and forth over his cock, pushing down a bit harder so that my cunt would open up to him. It was up to him to say no now, but he didn’t. He half closed his eyes and held me around my waist. He didn’t mind!
A thrill surged up from my belly. Now that he’d approved I could face that one of my most intimate fantasies was in the process of being realized. That thick hard cock slithered along the inner flesh and chafed at my clitoris deliciously. How different it was! My father’s cock, the one that had given me life, was mine for the moment. Mother was in the kitchen, brother was too, and here were Daddy and I doing what was taboo!
Neither of us said a word. The only sound was that of our heavy breathing. It wasn’t easy to keep my pussy moving regularly and in a straight line but if I wanted to satisfy him that’s what I would have to do. The idea of his satisfying me didn’t even occur to me. I only wanted to make him happy. And, to judge by the expression on his face, I was doing a good job of it. His eyes were still partly open but I couldn’t see them through his eyelashes. I figured he was probably gazing at my tits, bouncing up and down stiffly under my nightie. In a moment’s boldness I took the garment off and flung it away from me so he could enjoy my body in full. At once he reached out with one hand and caressed my tits, slowly, ever so slowly, as if he was trying to recapture something. I remembered Uncle Eddie telling me how much I resembled my mother at that age. Was that what was going through Dad’s mind? I felt hurt by that idea. Couldn’t he love me for myself? I wanted him to. I would break through his fantasies and establish myself!
I moved back off his cock and continued to back up until my mouth was hovering over his erect cock. Dad’s hands made to pull me back but they didn’t try too hard. Nestled between his legs, my hair falling over my face, my body hidden for the most part, I could be anyone at all. And that’s what I wanted him to see, just a woman taking his cock into her mouth for the best blow job he’d ever had. At first I felt an amateur’s lack of confidence. Could I really do this much cock justice? But then the heavy glans rested against my pursed lips and I opened my mouth wide to admit it, and from there on it came to me naturally.
I took it nice and easy. Dad had consented this time around but would he ever let me take such liberties with him again? I had to make the best of this blow job to drink in all I could get of him. Slowly my tongue moved along the warm rubbery surface of his knob, round and round until he was wet all over. Then, opening my lips just enough to take in the tip of his knob, I pushed my head down over him hard to make his cock penetrate me forcibly. It was a delicious sensation to feel him sliding down my mouth, my throat, his cock so thick, powerful, pulsing with life. Dad didn’t move and that was the way I liked it. This left me to do all the work. I caressed his ball bag with the tips of my fingers, sucked on his glans for a few minutes, then abandoned it to go down on his balls and suck them in. His body was rigid but it wasn’t because he was holding back. Tremors made him shaky, thrilling like a taut wire that’s been struck, and when I suddenly took his whole cock into my mouth I thought he was going to erupt for sure. But no, Dad was an experienced married man; he knew how to hold back. And I let him recover his poise because I was far from satisfied.
After that brief, suspenseful interval I continued to work his cock over with tongue, lips, and teeth. I suckled it in my warm spit, bit into it ever so finely, I licked it from head to toe, loving it passionately. And Dad just lay there. I could tell he was as happy as I was but he didn’t know how to show it. Even though we were naked and making love, we were still shy toward each other. Well, all the more time in which to suck, I thought and plied his long stem with the best my tongue could muster. From downstairs came the faint sounds of rattling cutlery and the slam of an oven door. Mum was keeping the first batch of pancakes warm. Her smug domesticity accentuated the raw sexuality of what Daddy and I were doing. His cock poked down my throat as his hairy loins moved restlessly under the stress of his excitement. His hands were on my head to hold me down and I wanted him to push harder so his cock would be lodged down my gullet for keeps. I was greedy, hungry, horny, and the more cock I could get the more my body came alive. Then his hands began to pull at me. I peered through the curtain of hair to see what was on his mind, and noticed that he was moving over to his side and reaching to bring me over toward him. “Oh Daddy!” I cried without taking his cock out of my mouth. I shuffled over at once and presented my runny cunt to his mouth. This was an unexpected bonus!
Things became a little hazy after that. I sucked his dick and he ate out my pussy and it felt as though the two of us were entwined and rolling about in a maelstrom of ecstasy. The details were lost, all I knew was that my cunt was on fire and Daddy was pouring oil on it. On occasions I felt a twinge of fear as I thought of Mum coming in and discovering us in this compromising position. But at the same time the fear fed the fires and I attacked his cock with all the more verve so that she would see what a woman her little girl had grown into.
Daddy stopped eating me when he neared his peak. He pushed me away and I devoted all of my attention to his dick. I had my ass toward his face, my knees at either side of his waist, and when I took all of him into my mouth my nose brushed along his balls. His hands feebly caressed my pussy but most of his attention was fixed on what my mouth was doing to his cock. He seemed to be expanding, growing harder, so much so that I could hardly contain all of his masculinity. A little more and his prize would be mine! I sucked his knob and jerked his stalk, tickled his balls and even caressed his asshole with one finger. Not long now. I could hardly wait! Please, don’t let anyone interrupt! I prayed. The first droplets shot out, whetting my taste buds and bringing down more saliva. And then, just as my teeth sank playfully into that smooth band of skin below the awning of flesh, a burst of sperm blurted from his straining cock, a burst so voluminous that it filled my mouth in an instant. It cost me all the self-control I had not to cough and splutter! More followed before I could swallow properly. Daddy was twisting about, hoisting his loins to loft his sperm deep down my throat, and I struggled to put away each load before the next one arrived. Hell, how long had it been since he’d fucked Mum? He just wouldn’t stop! One wave after another, salty-whey, creamy-smooth, rolling down my throat so easily that I didn’t have to swallow anymore once I’d caught up. And from there on it was a matter of holding his cock between my lips and letting him transfer his cream to me.
Downstairs Mum and Tim were setting the table and talking about something. The smell of coffee and cakes wafted up. I rolled off my father and lay on my side, holding his cock in my mouth so I could enjoy its final act. The hardness gave way to a soft quality, turning his cock from a weapon into a toy. It shriveled up and rested in my mouth docile, as a lamb. I wanted to stay there forever within the aura of his strong masculine smell, just suckling his cock and stroking his balls and his belly. But suddenly he pushed me away and told me to put on my nightie. “Time for breakfast,” he said, his eyes elsewhere. “Let’s not keep your mother waiting. And brush your teeth before you go down.”
“Alright Daddy.” He was so brusque. What had I done wrong? I tried to find the answer on his face but he wouldn’t look at me. Hurriedly he put on his pants and shirt, slipped into a pair of sneakers and went downstairs. I brushed my teeth and dressed, and when I joined the rest of the family I found Dad standing close to Mum by the stove. He was flirting with her, patting her ass and whispering things into her ear, the kind of act he put on when he was in really good spirits. Mum loved it, of course. She got all coy and silly when he came on to her like a horny boy. I figured he was trying to tell me something rather than her, but I couldn’t help feeling jealous.
We sat down to eat, Mum and Dad sitting right near each other, Tim drawing his chair close to mine. Dad paid no attention to me at all, and Tim did the opposite. He couldn’t stop engaging me in conversation, and in the meantime his hand searched for mine under the table. I withdrew irritably. Nothing appealed to me, not Tim, not the oriental Veronica had lined up for me in the afternoon; only Daddy had the vibrations that brought life to my pussy, my nipples, my belly; and Daddy was taken.
I was in two minds about whether to go to Veronica’s place or not. What the hell, I’d had my share for the day. She could handle him all by herself, anyway. But while I thought about it I bathed, groomed myself, and since I’d done all that I figured it would be a waste not to go. I went by way of the sidewalk this time and rang the doorbell just like a real guest. Veronica’s younger brother, Ned, answered the door.
“Hi Jackie, how have you been?” he said brightly. Ned liked me. He was a nice kid, I thought as I made my way up the stairs. Sixteen, frisky, eager, and very good-looking, he seemed ready to make his debut into the world of sex. At least, whenever he saw me he became very agitated and I knew that that was a sign of confused lust. He wanted me but didn’t have the slightest idea of how to go about it. Well, his sister would teach him one day. I walked into Veronica’s room and wished it was all over already.
She was alone, sitting on her bed against a mound of pillows and reading a heavy book. As usual she had on casuals: cut-off jeans, halter top, nothing on her feet, and her hair never needed combing. Just like a boy, I thought. “Well, where’s the stud of the week?” I said, throwing myself down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling moodily.
“He’s a little late,” she said. Her mood wasn’t so great either and I asked her why. “Oh, it’s Ned, the little fuck won’t leave the house, I offered him a couple of dollars to go see a movie but he’s so stubborn! Hell, what are we going to do with him around? He’s always nosing about in other people’s business.” She threw down the book and paced up and down in her room, frowning angrily. “Little brothers are a pain in the ass!” she muttered.
“He’s got a right to stay home,” I defended him, “and anyway, if we lock the door what can he see?”
“What can’t he hear? Besides, he could climb up on the tree and get a grandstand view. Hey Ned!” she yelled suddenly, heading for the bedroom door. “I’m giving you five seconds to get out of the house. If you’re not gone by then I’ll beat your brains out!”
“Try it,” he answered from below. He had a point. A year ago Veronica could have done it but Ned had grown up rapidly. She knew it, too.
“Perhaps we should call Michael up and tell him not to bother,” she said.
“Michael Wong,” she explained.
“Perhaps you should. Listen, Veronica, I’ve had enough. There are only a couple of days left before the wedding and there isn’t much more that you can show me. So why don’t we just forget it and take a break.”
“You think you know it all, huh? Well, maybe you do. Why should I give a damn? Okay, go home.” She was really mad and I wanted to make it up with her before I left. After all, she had put herself out for my sake. But just as I was about to console her the bell rang. Ned opened the door for whoever it was, and a little later an oriental man poked his head around the bedroom door.
“Veronica? Hi, sorry to be late. You must be Jackie. You are as beautiful as your cousin said you were.” I liked the look of him right away. He was tall and well-built, in a lean way. The short sleeves of his shirt showed a pair of arms that were slender but strong, with thick veins running down the upper arm. He wore his hair long and had a thin moustache, which somehow made him look mysterious and very masculine at the same time. Broad-shouldered, alert, handsome, he dispelled our bad moods in a second and had us chatting with him as if we’d known each other for years. Ned kept peeking around the doorway, though, and that threatened to upset Veronica all over again.
“Your young brother?” asked Michael. Veronica nodded and the tall oriental understood the situation at once. He walked up to Ned and introduced himself, then invited him to come downstairs for a little chat. A minute later Michael was back without Ned. “He agreed to go to the movies,” said Michael.
“How did you talk him into it?” we asked.
“By means of a very ancient oriental art,” he replied, “that of threatening children.”
I liked him better all the time. He was so composed, so sure of himself, that I knew I could place myself in his hands without any problems. Yet my bad mood prevailed like a cold current running through a warm river. Michael must have sensed that because he turned his full attention to me. “You look tense,” he told me, “and there really is no need to be. Please, take off your shoes and I will relax you utterly.”
“My shoes?” I gave Veronica a sidelong glance to see if this was a joke she was in on. She looked just as puzzled. “Okay, but I warn you now that I’m no fetishist.”
“Everyone has problems,” he shrugged. When my shoes were off he made me lie down on the bed without any pillows under my head so I had to stare up at the ceiling. He sat at the foot end and rested the heels of my feet on his folded legs not far from his crotch. The margin between me and his cock was very small indeed, a fact that both aroused me and made me suspicious of his methods. But he took both feet into his hands and started to knead them slowly, firmly, and they came no closer to his cock.
It took me a while to appreciate what he was doing, but then it crept up on me and took over. A warm, tingling sensation spread up from my feet through my legs and right throughout my torso, and wherever it went it relaxed all of my muscles, tendons, sinews, anything that could be drawn taut. The slight headache I’d had disappeared. The cold current was forgotten. I was one warm semi-fluid shape, putty in his hands. “My God, Veronica, has he ever done this to you?” I asked. “It’s just too wonderful to believe!”
“Michael knows a lot of stuff like that,” she nodded. Since he was busying himself with me she’d positioned herself by the side of the bed and smoked a cigarette languorously. Her face wore an expression of resignation, indicating that she expected to have to wait for seconds again, like last time. That was unfair and I knew it, yet nothing in me impelled me to stand up for my cousin.
“Please, Veronica, don’t look so left out of it,” Michael said. “Take off your clothes and lie on the bed next to your cousin. I can make both of you happy.”
“Okay!” She cheered up at once, jumped out of her clothes and onto the bed and lay very close to me, one arm linked through mine, with her legs wide apart. I was a little annoyed by this intrusion because I thought Michael would have to divide his attention between the two of us. But he was smarter than me. Neither of his hands ceased to massage my feet. All he did was to extend one leg between my cousin’s so that his big toe touched her pussy. And once it was in position he began to move that toe round and round against her labia until they parted and admitted the toe into the valley of the clitoris.
“Fiendishly cunning,” I commented. Veronica just smiled and shifted closer to that nimble toe. His toe must have had a lot of movement in it because she got twitchy in no time. And all the while those strong hands of his kneaded my feet. The warmth was turning to heat and the pleasant euphoria was being converted into pure lust. I wanted to urge him on to the next phase and I would have had he not inspired so much confidence in me. Michael would make his move when I was truly ready, not before, not after.
My confidence in him was justified. Those magic hands suddenly shifted upward, only as far as my ankles but that was enough for the time being. Everything was relative. If he had started with my cunt there wouldn’t be any next move to make. But since he’d started on my feet every move was an exciting one! I had never regarded my ankles as an erogenous zone, yet there it was, climaxing ankles! His fingers dug into my flesh and bone, massaging, kneading, caressing, titillating the nerve ends until my legs started to shake uncontrollably. And he had also moved toward me so that my feet rested squarely against his dick. He was hard and that flattered me tremendously. It didn’t occur to me that Veronica’s naked cunt might be exciting him. All I knew was that he was making love to me; my cousin had faded into irrelevancy.
Up and up, maintaining the same steady rhythm all the way along my legs until his hands were within inches of my pussy. I still had on my slacks and he was sitting between my thighs now, with my feet sticking out in thin air. But I could see his face now that he was so near, his handsome face looking down at my crotch as if he could see right through the garment. What he probably saw was the stain down there. My body throbbed with passion and my cunt was dripping like it had sprung a leak! Nothing had made me quite as wet… save perhaps my father’s tongue. I longed for him to undress me and just as the longing hit its peak he did. Still slow and easy in his movements, he took off my blouse and slacks but left my panties until my tolerance snapped. I reached down and started to tug at them desperately. What was normally the easiest thing in the world for me now became the hardest. I couldn’t get my Goddamn panties off! They ripped in places but not far enough. Finally Michael took them off for me and I heaved a sigh of gratitude.
“Eat me!” I whimpered. “Oh Michael, make love to me, I need you so badly! I feel so strange, so wonderful, please fuck me!”
“In time,” he nodded. “But first I must prepare you.”
“I’m ready now!” I cried but he just shook his head. Veronica was left to her own devices again as he squatted down between my legs and reached out to my pussy. It quailed and drooled vulgarly as soon as he touched it, and then his fingers started to play my cunt as though it was a violin. He reminded me of a craftsman plying his trade in the marketplace, sitting on his haunches, his face implacable, his hands busy in contrast to the stillness of the rest of his body. And what those hands did was art! Delicate, nimble fingers caressed my pussy from one end to the other and back again, inside and out, tickling, pinching, squeezing, penetrating, never doing one thing long enough to let me get used to it, always switching from one peak to another. The warmth had turned to heat. Now the heat turned to roaring flames. “For Christ’s sake, fuck me!” I yelled hoarsely. This was unfair! My cunt felt like a hot vacuum about to implode. “Fuck me, Michael, I beg you, shove your cock up me, oh God, I’m going crazy! Please, please, pleeeezz!!!!”
My hands reached out like tentacles and tried to tear his clothes off, to pull him down on me, anything to get more of him. “Hold her still,” he instructed Veronica. My cousin pinned down both my arms and grinned broadly at me when I called her a traitor and a bitch. Michael continued his erotic torture, toying with my cunt, caressing all around it, fingering me, all without giving me a chance at attaining to ultimate satisfaction. I couldn’t even see his cock or his balls! Why couldn’t he at least take off his clothes? It was unfair and I told him so. No answer. But he did go down on me.
“Oooooohhhh yesssss!” I sighed, wriggling contentedly as his tongue brushed along my belly in the vicinity of my cunt. Now he would plunge that slithery, sensitive thing into my cunt and fill up part of that burning vacuum to keep me from going insane! I could hardly wait. His tongue was out and my cunt tried to track it down and encircle it. But whenever I or it came close, he dodged me nimbly and since Veronica kept a tight grip on my arms I could hardly rape him vaginally. I had to lay there and take it as he circled my cunt over and over with his tongue dragging against my oversensitive skin, always skirting by my pussy lips! “Don’t do this to me!” I begged. “Oh Jesus, I need it so bad! Please Michael, give it to me now!”
“Just wait,” said my cousin. She adjusted her position so that her knees held my wrists down by the sides of my head, and now her cunt was inches away from my face. It hovered over me like a spider about to pounce, or that’s how it looked at first glance. But as I kept staring at her cunt, so familiar now and yet forever mysterious, it turned into a desirable, chubby pussy again, barely covered by hair, wide open so that the pink inner flesh bulged out at me and invited me to make a meal of it. I raised my head to take the first bite quickly, thinking that she might want to tease me as well, but Veronica wasn’t the type to delay gratification. As soon as my lips met hers she sank down on me and fed me as much of her cunt as I wanted. Having a mouthful of pussy distracted me briefly from my plight. Unhappily Michael was far too good to let me escape it altogether.
He saw fit to start licking my pussy proper at this point. The tip of his tongue flashed and flicked subtly at my clitoris, lashing it into new frenzies of passion. Veronica ought to take lessons from him, I thought. Here was a man who knew what cunts were all about! His tongue writhed like a stuck snake, pressing down on my clit as hard as it could, pushing it deep into its bed of flesh and setting off bombs of ecstasy in me. “Now you’re eating!” I mumbled through the folds of Veronica’s pussy. What he gave me she got, too. As my passions mounted dizzyingly I bit into her cunt as though it was a ripe, juicy fig, and Veronica yelled in pain. Only under that yell I heard her shrill delight and so I mauled her with lips and teeth until she was grinding her cunt into my face so hard I couldn’t breathe! Luckily she let go of my arms during this orgasm and I was able to lift her off far enough to let a little air stream in, or else she would have fucked my face until I suffocated.
The room sounded like a soup kitchen. Smacking lips, long slurps, sighs of satisfaction rang through the room. The smell of olives suffused the air, small moans welled up, it was hot, sweaty, and tense. His tongue wriggled deep inside me. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy me but enough to hold me down. Suddenly he withdrew his mouth and left cool air to brush past the wetness of my cunt so that I felt the loss all the more. I couldn’t see what was going on because Veronica kept her cunt pressed into my face. I just hoped he’d be undressing.
I felt his nakedness as he resumed his position between my legs. His skin was smooth as talcum, his flesh was uniformly hard. Way down my leg I felt a stiff cock sliding along my skin. I felt no hair, just his smoothness, his hardness. Veronica was huffing and puffing on top of me, straining toward her next climax the way a locomotive makes for the top of a steep hill. I had to finish her off quickly. My tongue darted from her clit to her hole and back, working at full speed until at last she went over the top and collapsed over me like a house of cards. Right away I gave her a shove that sent her rolling to the other side of the bed and I sat up to see what my fine lover looked like.
He was beautiful! His milky brown skin took on the luster of daylight and his hairless, muscular body rippled with every move he made. I wanted to touch him all over and he didn’t stop me this time. My hands caressed the smoothness of his back, shoulders, his hard, round buns, and they slipped in between his buttocks to see if any hair grew down there. None at all. He lay on his belly and ate my cunt during all this so I couldn’t see if he had pubic hair. I was too curious to wait for him to show me. My hands slipped under his belly and reached for that part of him. Smooth skin, nothing but smooth skin!
“Let me make love to you now!” I pleaded, not expecting him to give way to me. Again he surprised me. He lay on his back and nodded for me to go ahead. “You’ll let me? Oh Michael, thank you!” I did the rounds of his body first, licking him all over, taking a quick suck of his cock, inspecting him, loving him, and when my curiosity was satisfied I straddled his loins and guided his long, slender cock into me. It was like an ivory dildo, beautifully carved, and it slipped into my cunt as easily as if it had been custom made for it. He was content at first to let me do all the work. I bobbed up and down over him, working his cock into different parts of my pussy until the worst itch had been scratched. Then it was time to settle down to some serious fucking!
I lay on top of him and placed my legs on top of his so that his cock was trapped not only in my pussy but also between my thighs. I kissed him with passion and thrust my tongue into his mouth, clung to him, and undulated my whole body so his cock would enter me deeply. And Michael kissed me back but held still for the rest. I worked off all that excess energy, that pent-up frustration, banging my belly against his, holding his cock securely between my slippery lips, and he loved it! He waited until I couldn’t go on. My back hurt, I wasn’t getting the right amount of penetration, so he rolled us both over and took over the wheel.
Now his cock dove deep into my cunt, down, down, down, till it touched bottom. That set me off right away. The next stroke seemed to go even deeper and the stroke after that was headed for my throat from the wrong end. He fucked beautiful, long, driving strokes, given an extra hitch by a snap of his ass. I settled in for the finale, convinced that this was his last act. For a while it looked as though I was right. He started to gallop, and that was part of a routine with which I was at least familiar. Harder and harder, sticking his dick into me so deep that I felt it between my lungs! Any moment his sperm would fill me up, and in preparation for that moment I started to work at getting off. The expectation, the foreplay, his powerhouse fucking, all elevated me up to the springboard, and from there I jumped to arch gracefully through the blue skies to land in a pool of joy. I heard myself cry out gibberish and compliments to him. Next would come his grunts, his frantic crescendo… but no, he kept on plugging away at the same pace!
He rolled us over again and I found myself on top of him, trying my best to remember what to do. While I contended with my post-orgasmic daze Michael took over again. His hands grabbed hold of my hips and began to move me back and forth slowly so that his cock banged about inside me like a clapper in a bell. That was fun but not nearly as much as I was about to get. He increased the speed of his movement, moving me back and forth faster, faster, more violently, shaking me like a rag doll, until my head hurt and my eyes bugged out. But how delicious that felt! His cock moved about inside my cunt and touched on all the unexplored bases, rattling around in there while I was in his strong hands. He was sweating and grunting and his hips moved up and down while his hands moved me to and fro. The motion soon got the better of me. Under a barrage of screams I came, came, came again, and he kept shaking me until the last climax had rolled away into the distance. Then, with obvious reluctance, he squeezed the cheeks of my ass together to put pressure on his cock, and brought himself undone inside me.
Veronica lit cigarettes for the both of us and observed us with a quiet smile. “Didn’t I tell you he was great?” she said to me as if he wasn’t right next to me. “He knows what to do with a woman. And you weren’t going to stick around for him to come by, right?”
“Nobody’s perfect,” I countered feebly. Nonetheless, her words struck a cord in me: if I had given in to my listlessness I wouldn’t have had the best Sunday afternoon in my life.