Margot Quinn began a new life at the age of forty. After ten years of sterile and unproductive marriage, the still-lovely middle-aged woman divorced her husband and moved to a small town in the Southwest. Without friends or money, she was determined to build a new life, a life on her own terms.
It wasn't long before Margot had established herself in the sleepy desert town of Delford. A job and a house were easy enough to secure but there was still an element missing in Margot's life, a man to satisfy sexual urges that had lain dormant through a decade of cohabitation with an unresponsive husband.
Margot found what she was looking for in the guise of Peter Bloy, a boy of fourteen, a dazzlingly handsome youth who proved an easy victim of her seductive wiles. It was an unprecedented situation for Margot, sharing her love and passion with a lad young enough to be her son.
But Margot's story is not atypical of her class and age-group. Psychologists have found more and more middle-aged women who have turned to younger lovers. Technically, the term for this is pedophilia, a forbidding, scientific description of a flesh and blood process that is quite common in our sexually permissive era.
Surprised and confused by her newly discovered erotic desires, Margot felt betrayed and abandoned when her young lover was forced to leave Delford for over a month. During that time she struggled with herself, trying to comprehend her needs, to establish a life in accord with desires that could no longer be repressed.
A period of sexual experimentation followed, including an attempted reunion, with Charlie, her former husband, as well as a series of sexual adventures with other young lovers. None was able to take Peter's place, but each taught Margot something about herself, until her self-knowledge was complete.
Although her reunion with Peter Bloy began in ecstasy, fate turned against the passionate couple. Their second separation would be the last, as Peter's family was moving to another area of the country. It was a blow that tested Margot, a stroke of misfortune that would have destroyed a lesser woman.
Margot knew that life would be different without Peter, but the resolute woman clung to her newly found passions and desires. Refusing to end a sex life that had really just begun, she carved a new path for herself in a continuing quest for self-knowledge and satisfaction of her erotic needs.
You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surree Collectors Series and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
I guess you could call me a living cliche, a woman who embodies the truth of one of those old sayings we all grew up with. In my case, the old saw would have to be "Life begins at forty," because it was only last year, right after my birthday, that for the first time in my life I learned what it is to be truly alive.
It's not as if I had been sitting on the shelf for the first thirty-nine years of my life. After all, I had been married for ten years, had been to school, had worked at several jobs, had done all the usual things that women do, but I know now that I hadn't discovered my real self until I met Peter Bloy.
Peter came into my life about two months after I had moved to Delford, trying to build a new existence for myself after my divorce. To make a long story short, I had picked Delford at random, moved there on impulse and managed to land a job after being there for less than a week, a job that I sorely needed.
I was working in a sort of general store, a place that served the retail needs of both townspeople and farmers from the surrounding area. The bookkeeping courses I'd taken in college landed me a position in which I took care of the paperwork, along with advertising, inventory and, when the place was busy, manning the cash register.
Enough about my job, for now at least. It was work, I didn't mind it more than the other jobs I've had, and it paid the bills. The important thing about it is that it allowed me to meet Peter Bloy, the first man whom I went to bed with after a full year of celibacy, a year I don't much like to think about these days.
Peter was fourteen years old when we met, a tall, slender blonde boy with bright blue eyes and a fair and flawless complexion. His family did all their shopping at my store and then, when school ended, Peter started to work there for the summer, bringing us into close contact five days a week, eight hours a day.
Peter was rather shy and must have picked me out right from the start as a kindred spirit. We got friendly in a very short time, since we were often left alone in the store during long hot afternoons when business was slow. But I really had no thought of seducing the boy until that fateful afternoon when he came home with me.
Let me skip most of the details. We left work early that day and Peter helped me move a new stove and refrigerator into the little cottage I had rented. We worked hard that sweltering afternoon and by the time the appliances were installed had both worked up a good sweat. Knowing that Peter would refuse any payment for helping me, I cooked him supper and then broke out some cold beer.
We ate and drank together and then we started to talk. I've never been much of a drinker and Peter, at age fourteen, was barely able to finish three cans of beer before getting loaded. As we sat together on my dusty old sofa I knew in a flash that I was going to fuck him, that we'd make it before the day had ended.
That sounds pretty cold-blooded, but don't think I was calm and cool about making the boy. He was young enough to be my son and although I look several years younger than my chronological age, we made a pretty strange-looking couple. He was the first younger man I had ever gone to bed with and once I made my decision I had no idea how to go about seducing my young friend.
But it turned out pretty easy. Without bragging, let me say that I'm a fine looking woman, as shapely and voluptuous as I was twenty years ago. Compared to the other women in Delford I must have looked like something that stepped out of the pages of a movie magazine. Anyway, Peter sure found me attractive enough.
We talked and talked and after an hour I felt that I knew him intimately. I kept staring into Peter's big blue eyes, ran my eyes up and down his lovely young body, moving closer and closer to him. We didn't talk about sex or love or romance at all, even though we wanted each other badly by that stage of the game.
I had to be the aggressor, of course, but I was damned scared of frightening Peter, chasing a confused boy out of my house. Delford is a small town and its populace has some old-fashioned ideas about sex. I had to be super careful in seducing Peter and my patience paid off beyond the limits of my wildest fantasies.
As we sat together, I leaned my head toward Peter, closed my eyes and let him kiss me. I heard him breathing hard and then his lips were pressed to my mouth, the kind of clumsy kiss you'd expect from an inexperienced country boy. But I knew right off that it was going to be a banner afternoon for both of us.
Peter glued his lips to mine and let me taste the clean fresh flavor of his boyish mouth. I parted my lips a little and sucked gently at his tongue, pulling it into my mouth at the same time I was pressing my torso against his body. It was hot as hell and we were already sweating bullets but once we got the ball rolling I don't either of us was aware of the temperature.
I took my time with Peter, although my body had started to go wild from the second he had kissed me. His tongue stayed in my mouth and he caught on pretty quickly. I felt his wiry arms surrounding my back and then his whole body was trembling with desire. I wanted to rip the clothing off those slender, graceful limbs, but kept my desires in check for the next few moments.
We kissed until it was hard to breath and then I began to unbutton my blouse, not letting Peter see what I was doing. My bare tits were soon rubbing against his hairless chest, my nipples hard and aching with lust. At that point Peter realized what we were getting into and pulled nervously away from me.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Quinn," he mumbled. "I don't know how that happened. Please forgive me. Don't tell anyone what I did."
"There's nothing to forgive," I told him. "You like me and I like you very much. Well, when a man and woman like each other, they kiss. There's nothing wrong with that."
"But I'm just a kid," Peter insisted, sliding over into the far corner of the couch. "I don't know anything about women; I don't know what we're supposed to do."
"Trust me, darling," I told him, keeping my voice low and steady. "You do find me attractive, don't you? Of course, and I feel the same way about you. Come here, Peter, don't be scared of me. We can have a good time together, a real good time.
I felt very wicked and sexy seducing the boy but at the same time I was on pins and needles about losing him. Peter moved close to me and then kissed me again but he was shaking and scared as I groped at his clothing. I could hardly wait to see him naked and could only hope he felt the same things for me.
Soon we were naked to the waist and I knew that the battle was almost won. Peter was more muscular than I'd expected, with a torso like an ancient statue. I pushed my big tits against him again and then smiled inwardly as he started to feel me up. His caresses were anything but skillful at that point, but he was turning me on intensely. I could feel cunt honey pouring out of my box and drenching my nylon panties and the crotch of my thin summer skirt.
Peter's hands closed over my tits. He squeezed my big boobs rather hard, as if hanging on for dear life, but that too aroused my long-dormant passion. While he explored my mammary charms, I busied myself with slipping out of my skirt and panties and then carefully opening his belt and unzipping the boy's fly.
He lowered his head down to my tits, delighting me and taking me by surprise. I had no reason to doubt his claim of sexual innocence even when he clamped his lips down around my right nipple and sucked it greedily into his mouth. All I knew was that I was turned on like never before. My body was on fire, my cunt was contracting of its own volition .and Peter was doing just what I wanted him to do.
He worked on my tits and nipples for a full two minutes, going from one to the other, covering my skin with a patina of warm saliva. My nipples contracted from the boy's incessant ministrations, turning dark and red and puckered. He bit into my tender flesh at one point but I swear that turned me on all the more.
When I couldn't stand it anymore, I began to caress the lad's delicious young body, running my hands over his back and shoulders, pressing my fingertips to his cheeks and eye sockets, sliding my palms over his long, hard thighs. His pants were down at his ankles now, giving me my first look at Peter's cock.
I don't remember exactly what I was expecting but I know I was taken completely by surprise when I saw that huge machine staring up at me. It was the biggest cock I had ever seen, at least seven inches long and four inches thick, hard already, curving out at a jaunty angle and quivering and throbbing with lust.
Peter was so busy with my tits that he hardly noticed it when I began playing with his tool. His head was smothered in my breast and his tongue continued to dance back and forth from one nipple to the other. I stretched my arm out blindly and finally located his rod, touching it gently with my fingertips and feeling the big thing come to life in my experienced hands.
I closed my fingers around Peter's cock and weighed it in my palm. He was fully erect already, his prick a pulsating shaft of iron muscle and distended veins. I ran my fingers along the full length of the gorgeous cock and then tickled it just under the glans as Peter started to kiss me again.
Peter still acted as if I wasn't jerking him off and that was all right in my book. I could have gone on playing with that huge engine for hours. I ran my fingers from base to crown and then felt a few drops of come that had leaked from the tip. I looked down and saw that his prick had turned a dark, purple color, especially the swollen head, which felt like it was going to burst.
At that point, Peter stiffened in my arms, showing me that I had finally got to the handsome boy. He broke our kiss and then lay back into the lumpy cushions of my sofa, abandoning himself totally to my tender mercies. I looked at his face and he seemed younger than ever, innocent, curious and terribly confused.
He kept his eyes closed, probably afraid that if he opened them the whole experience would turn out to be a dream. I smiled at his innocence and then went back to work on his swollen rod, squeezing it a little harder and feeling the blood coursing powerfully through his thick, gnarled penial veins.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm, that feels so good," Peter muttered. "Oh, yes, touch it again, just like that, please don't stop!"
Stopping was the furthest thought from my mind. I had the boy just where I wanted him and nothing on earth was going to stand in the way of my pleasure. I closed my fingertips around the tumid head of Peter's rod and tickled it with all the erotic skill I could muster. I knew that it wouldn't take much to satisfy a boy that young but I wanted to give him my best.
For that reason, I soon stopped jerking Peter off. I could have brought him to orgasm easily enough with my hand but knew it would be a thousand times better for both of us if I sucked him off instead. My eyes were riveted to his prick and my mouth had literally started to water. I wanted to blow the boy more than I had ever wanted anything in my whole life before.
Slowly, carefully, not wanting to break the spell, I slid off the sofa and dropped to my knees before him. There was a stain where I had been sitting, the overflow from my lusting cunt. It would have been better for me to fuck the boy but I was still scared of his innocence. I had to put off my own pleasure until I had proved to Peter that he had nothing to fear from making it with me.
His legs were already parted, so it was easy enough for me to wedge my body between the lad's long, muscular thighs. Big as his prick was, Peter had almost no pubic hair at all, just a few pale blonde tresses curling around the base. His balls were just as hairless, a long, heavy sac hanging between his legs and resting on the edge of the lower cushions of my sofa.
Those big soft balls soon rested in my cleavage as I started to suck Peter's cock. I had never been particularly fond of oral sex before that day but I found my mouth watering, hungry for his come. I lowered my head down to the target and then slowly closed my lips around the thick head of that luscious dick.
Peter shivered again as he felt me going to work but his eyes remained closed for the rest of the blowjob. I took things slow and easy for the first few moments, sensing that it wouldn't take much to get him to give up his fluids. That was what I wanted, of course, but I wanted to put it off for as long as possible.
It wasn't all that easy to fit his cock into my mouth. The stiff organ seemed to swell as I touched it with my lips to the point where I thought it would choke me. But I wasn't going to give in without a fight and soon managed to surround that swollen crown with my lips and work it over with my tongue.
My lips were stretched out of shape from servicing that unbending scepter and my jaw felt like it was being dislocated. I moved my head down a little more and soon had a full four inches of cock in my mouth, causing me to salivate even more. I could taste a drop of come pearling on the tip of Peter's rod but the darling boy was still not ready to come in my mouth.
I licked and sucked at his cock with total dedication, no longer concerned with my own lusting body. Using every combination of my lips, teeth and tongue, I drove the boy insane with passion. He was still as a statue for the first few seconds but then his body began to quiver and I could feel his cock pulsing.
It got even better when he started to fuck my mouth, thrusting his prick upward as if he were fucking me. It made me gag and choke a little but for some reason that made me enjoy the whole experience all the more. I can't say that I was really thinking about anything, but deep down I felt wicked and extremely voluptuous.
I bobbed my head up and down over Peter's prick, taking in more of the huge organ with every stroke. He stopped moving again, as if knowing that I wanted to service that full seven inches, a task most women would have considered impossible. I felt the head of his rod pressing against my throat but still there was a good three inches of cock that had not yet felt my lips and tongue.
I shoved my head down violently, impatient with myself. I knew that something rare and important was happening to me, something that could change the course of my whole life, and that gave me the will to succeed. His prick slid deep into my throat and then I knew that I had turned the trick at last.
My lips were pressed against his groin and I surrounded the base of Peter's cock with my teeth, making sure not to bite into his delicate skin with my sharp white teeth. I looked up but his eyes were still resolutely shut. The boy's face was now a mask of unhindered lust, covered with sweat and red as a beet.
That by itself told me that he was almost ready to shoot, as if I needed any confirmation of that fact. I kept Peter's prick ensconced in my throat for a few second longer and then decided that it was time for him to be brought to orgasm. I picked my head up a little and reluctantly ceded the bottom three inches of his meat.
Well, I don't want to brag but I gave that boy a blowjob that would have pulled the come out of a eunuch. My head moved faster and faster, sucking in most of his prick and releasing it again with a loud sloshing noise. My saliva collected around his cock and then dripped down to the boy's balls. All the while my tits rubbed against his thighs and balls.
like I said, no man could have resisted me for long that day. I was like a woman possessed, acting like my life depended on making Peter shoot his wad. My own sweat got into my eyes and blinded me but that didn't slow me down for a second. I didn't have to see anything as long as I could feel his prick in my mouth.
Peter began to breath hot and heavy, showing me that the end was near. I hadn't sucked a man off in over a year but knew exactly what was happening in his young beautiful body. I could feel the come welling up in his balls, swimming into his prick and then collecting just under the head. I could feel the pressure building up as the boy struggled against his innocent, impending orgasm.
He seemed to be trying to hold his climax back, which stimulated me to work all the harder. I sucked his prick as if there would be no tomorrow, hollowing my cheeks with the effort. He was moving again, shoving his prick harder and harder into my mouth, a sure sign he was ready
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, don't stop, please don't stop," he moaned, his voice getting louder and louder. "Keep doing that, keep sucking it. Yeah, just like that. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, not so hard. I can't stop! I'm coming, yes, it's going to happen! I'm COMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!! "
As soon as the words were out of his mouth Peter delivered, giving me what I had awaited so frantically. His prick held still between my lips and then I felt it exploding. A river of hot, salty come shot into me, filling my mouth and gurgling down into my throat. A second shot followed the first, pumping more and more jism down my straining craw until I thought I would drown.
But I swallowed the hot juices as quickly as my young lover could produce them, framing his prick with my teeth so that it could not get away from me. A third stream of hot jizz cannonaded into my mouth and I felt like I was swimming in the stuff, as if it had replaced the blood in my pounding veins.
At last my lover's erection started to wilt. A few more drops of semen, thin and lumpy this time, leaked into my mouth and then the boy's huge cock went limp on me. I kept it in my mouth for the next few moments, still sucking as if I wanted more of his sperm but knowing that it was all over for the time being.
Peter slumped back onto the couch, having risen almost to his feet in the throes of his orgasm. I stayed where I was, on my knees on the rug before him, feeling that it was my proper place. I rolled the last of his come around in my cheeks, loving the salty, acrid flavor, and then swallowed it noisily.
We stayed that way for what seemed an eternity, neither of us knowing what to say. Peter had an excuse, being only fourteen, but there was no reason for me to be so overcome and out of things. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate and finally I could feel my thoughts focusing again on present reality.
"Did you like that, darling?" I managed to ask him.
"I never did anything like that before," Peter answered apologetically. "I hope I didn't hurt you, Mrs. Quinn. It was fantastic, what you did to me. I didn't know it could feel so good."
"You mean you've done it before?" I asked suspiciously. "Tell me, Peter, I want to know all about you. Has any other woman ever done that to you or am I the first one who sucked your cock?"
"I've never really been with a girl before," Peter admitted. "I mean, I've kissed girls at parties but they would never touch me. Not like you did, Mrs. Quinn."
"Call me Margot," I insisted, even though I liked hearing him talk to me like I was his teacher or some other adult authority figure. "So I really am the first. You know, Peter, this is just the beginning. There are other things we can do together."
"Gee, I don't know," Peter told me, looking more like a frightened child than ever. "It's late and I have to go home soon."-
"You can fuck me, Peter," I told him, knowing that my voice was getting desperate in its intonations. "You know what that is, don't you? And you do like me, I did make you happy. Stay for another hour and I'll make it really good for you."
Strangely enough, Peter refused to stay. I could see that he was scared of me and he probably did have to get home soon, but that wasn't what convinced me to let him go. No, there was a moment when we looked into each other's eyes and our understanding was complete. What had happened between us meant as much to Peter as it did to me. For better or worse we were together and there was no way to ignore what we had done and what it boded for the future.
I hardly noticed Peter as he struggled back into his clothing. It was as if time and reality had come to a halt for me. I wasn't even horny any more, just filled with a sense of destiny and mystery, of a fate finally met. Putting it in more pedestrian terms, I knew that the boy would come back for more after the way I had blown him.
He kissed me good-bye, but I hardly noticed his departure, being completely wrapped up in myself, in the inchoate images that swan through my consciousness. Alone, I walked slowly into the bathroom and stopped before the floor-length mirror, staring at my own body as hungrily and sensually as I had stared at Peter's.
I felt that I was seeing myself for the first time and I like what I saw in no uncertain terms. I saw that my face was flushed with passion, my high cheekbones protruding from under sleepy black eyes. My lips were coated with congealed semen, making them shiny and even thicker than usual. My neck was dark with throbbing blood.
I stared at my tits, huge soft globes, standing as proud and firm as they had in my own adolescence. They were swollen with lust and my dark brown nipples were still tightly contracted. I touched my tits, weighing them in my hands and feeling a charge of sexuality surging through my entire body.
My midsection looked more muscular than usual, flat as a board except for a swelling below my navel. My hips were broad, flaring out from a narrow base, and my cunt was a tangled bush of jet black tresses, shiny with the overflow of my juices. I had never before been so turned on by looking at myself.
I caressed my tits for a moment, squeezing them gently and then playing with the nipples. It was my own hand yet it felt unfamiliar to me, much more confident and sensual than ever before. I still couldn't think straight, couldn't concentrate my thoughts on anything beyond the sight of my own body.
Letting go of my tits, I slid one hand down along my midsection, turned on by the feel of my smooth, creamy skin. I've never been overly modest about my own beauty but this was really the first time I had ever got to know myself, vague and uncertain as that must sound. It was as if I saw myself through the eyes and in the mind of Peter Bloy, my fourteen year old lover.
I rubbed and stroked and caressed my warm body, moving my right hand closer and closer to my cunt. A few moments later I settled onto a wicker clothing hamper before the mirror, spreading my shapely, fleshy thighs apart slowly and gracefully. It was then that I masturbated for the first time in years.
My fingers parted the shiny black curls of my pubic bush and I watched myself closely in the mirror, watched the tip of my index finger as it slid between my pink labia. I felt things settling down in my mind as my body took over. I was hot and bothered again and knew that I had to bring myself to orgasm.
It seems meaningless to say that it was the most arousing, stimulating, totally erotic masturbation session I had ever experienced. All I know is that I turned myself on immediately and with an intensity that was frightening. My finger disappeared into my twat and I wasted no time in getting my rocks off.
Watching myself closely in the mirror, I forced my finger all the way into my cunt, letting it slosh around in my ample discharge. I moved slowly and elegantly, letting my passion build as gradually as I could stand, wanting the strange experience to go on forever. With every stroke I could feel my lust and passion mounting to an irresistible, mysterious, shattering climax.
But I couldn't come that way, excited as I was from blowing my young lover. I removed my finger from my dripping vulva and then spread my thighs wide so that I could stare into the center of my lusting body. It was transfixing to peer into myself that way but it didn't diminish my passion an iota.
I went for my clitoris at that point, sliding two fingers along my inner labia and finally locating the sensitive little gland. I rubbed it in slow circular strokes and then it emerged from behind its sheath, bright red and swollen to the bursting point. My eyes closed but I forced myself to open them once again.
Holding my erect clitty between thumb and forefinger, I manipulated it with unprecedented self-assurance, feeling none of the shame or self-consciousness that had plagued me in the past. I knew that I was in a sense holding on to my young lover, keeping Peter with me while my lust was aroused. In a way, it was he who was bringing me closer and closer to the point of climax.
All this is very hard to explain and it was even more obscure while it was happening. I never doubed myself for a moment, though, never stopped playing with that supersensitive gland, even when my cunt was dripping wet and red from irritation. I knew instinctively that this orgasm would be one to remember.
I have no idea how long it took me to come, but I do remember that I thought of Peter as my climax approached. I could see him standing there before me, young and handsome and virile. I worked one finger back into my dripping pussy and continued to abuse my clitoris with another. It was an effort to keep my eyes open but I wanted to see myself coming.
Then it happened to the best, most violent orgasm of my life. My hands seemed to have a mind of their own, so that I was actually taking myself by surprise, coming up with new motions and techniques that could no longer be resisted. Then, all of a sudden, I heard myself screaming my passion aloud.
"PETER, PETER, fuck me, stick that big thing into my cunt. I want to feel you, I need you inside me. YES, FUCK ME, SHOVE IT INTO MY CUNT. Make me come, Peter, fuck me some more. Yes, that's what I want. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEE-EEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! "
My orgasm seemed to go on forever, one spasm of lust following another, my body writhing and twisting on that precarious perch. I must have come four times before my passion waned, and when I drew my fingers away they were coated with come. As I got up I noticed that I was soaked with pussy juice down to my knees.
The rest of that evening remains a blank in my memory, no matter how hard I try to remember it. I know that I went to sleep quite early, which was quite a change from my usual insomnia. And it's a safe bet that my dreams were monopolized by Peter Bloy, my innocent, handsome, virile young lover.
CHAPTER TWO
The next day at work I took it easy on Peter, knowing that, young as he was, the boy was bound to be awfully nervous about being near me. Business was good that day and we wouldn't have been able to talk much if we'd wanted to, and all in all the time went more quickly than I had any right to expect.
Also, I had plenty of time to think things over and second-guess myself, but I have to admit that my conscience was clear about having a sexual relationship with Peter. It wasn't-likely to do him any harm, I figured, and I myself was old enough to take care of my emotions. That's what I figured.
The few times Peter and I spoke it was all business. I could see that he was nervous but the boy had things pretty much in control, which pleased me immensely. I didn't want a hysterical lover who could fly off the handle at any given moment, not in a town as straight-laced and morally backward as Delford.
One time late in the afternoon I passed by where Peter was working and asked him quite simply if he was coming over that night. He rewarded me with a smile that told me everything, a broad, sunny grin that made the rest of the day go a lot slower amid thoughts and expectations that were a lot more erotic than romantic.
Don't get the idea that I lusted only after Peter's body. No, my life over the next six months would have been far simpler had that been the case. Even then, at the very onset of our affair, I knew that my ties to Peter were going to be complex, the deepest and most totally affecting of all my relationships.
I thought about that and I thought about my past, particularly my marriage. My former husband, Charlie, didn't come off too well against Peter Bloy, but I managed to think of him with affection for the first time since our separation. Charlie couldn't help being what he was even if that wasn't especially good.
Marriage to Charlie had been, in a word, dull. A stolid, compulsively respectable small businessman, Charlie added new dimensions to the idea of conformity. I couldn't blame him for marrying me since it had been as much my idea as his, and now I could afford to laugh at how completely unsuited we'd been for each other.
We married when I was twenty-nine and Charlie almost forty. I'd been locked into a series of really lousy jobs and my romantic life had begun the long, slow slide into atrophy that single women go through. Charlie was nice-looking, reliable, reasonably well off and not all that bad in the sack.
The first eight years of our marriage went by quickly and then there was a sudden access of boredom on my part and dissatisfaction on Charlie's. Having children might have helped but neither of us was decisive enough to insist on it. Our divorce set new records for amiability, though it shocked the shit out of poor Charlie when I refused alimony and all other financial assistance.
I knew right off the bat that things with Peter would not be dull, whatever else they might be. In one afternoon I had had more of an emotional workout than in any given year of married life and it stood to reason that I should expect more of the same. I got it, starting that night.
By the time I got home and started waiting for Peter to show up, I was feeling mellow and sure of myself. There was nothing to worry about yet, no reason to feel anything but a sense of pleasant anticipation. I didn't even mind the weather, though I could see twisters out on the desert and my cottage looked like it had sustained a saturation bombing of dust and sand and grit.
Peter came over shortly after six and it was like a movie being speeded up. My bucolic mood vanished and I found myself nervous and on edge, even a bit apprehensive. Still, I made myself cheerful and played hostess successfully for a full hour, ignoring a strong desire to rip Peter's clothing off and rape him on the spot.
He had never looked better, his blue eyes glinting, his complexion yielding to the sun only in its pinkness, his body tall and straight and tense with anticipation of the unknown. He was going to fuck me that evening and we both knew it well enough not to have to say a word about it to each other.
I don't remember exactly how we made the transition from living room to bedroom, but I'll never forget watching Peter undress, devouring his body with my eyes and noticing that he wasn't at all timid about being naked with me. By then our conversation had trailed off and we were both pretty anxious to get going.
I got out of my clothing quickly, the garments flying off my body in defiance of the laws of physics and gravity. Once again I had the distinct impression that I was in the middle of a dream, even though my body was raging with unsatiated lust. It was all happening so easily, nothing ever seemed to go wrong between us. It was almost too good to be true.
You might think that it would be a difficult task to take the virginity of a fourteen-year-old country boy, that it would require tact, patience and even cunning on the woman's part, but that just wasn't the case with Peter. Throughout the pleasant process of defloration, my lover was at least as calm as myself.
We sat down on the bed together and exchanged a few words, meaningless phrases of affection and mutual concern. Peter responded to my eye-signals by wrapping an arm around my shoulders and then
I let myself sink onto the mattress. He bent over to kiss me on the lips and then the real fun began.
I parted my lips and sucked Peter's tongue into my mouth, again relishing the taste of his adolescent body. He rolled over onto my supine body and I felt his prick stiffen against my thighs, thick and hard and masculine, A surge of warmth pervaded my body until I could smell my perspiration mingling with my pussy juices.
On and off over the next few minutes I told Peter what to do. He was able to accept my instructions without resentment, willing to acknowledge his inexperience. And the boy sure caught on quickly. He was a natural in bed, never having to be told things twice, getting ahead of my instructions, to my unmitigated delight.
We kissed for quite a while, mingling our tongues and grinding our lusting bodies together. Now I could tell that Peter was fully erect. The head of his prick was pressed between my warm thighs just inches from the opening of my pussy. I could have had him fuck me then and there and end the unendurable suspense.
But I wanted Peter's introduction to fucking to be perfect, as much for myself as for him. I knew it wouldn't be a one-shot deal, knew it instinctively. I slid my body out from under Peter's long, slender torso and reached for his cock, pressing my fingertips into the resilient red flesh of his tumid head.
"Can I do the same thing to you?" Peter asked in a low, steady voice. "Show me how to do it, Margot."
I kept one hand on Peter's cock and then guided his fingers to my burning pussy with the other. He felt around my twat for a moment, tangling his fingers in the black pubic curls, running one finger along the full length of my gaping labia, tentatively forcing his index finger into the opening of my hungry vulva.
"That's right, darling," I encouraged him. "It's all yours. I want you in my cunt, Peter, all the way inside my pussy."
It was spooky the way Peter learned the intricacies of fingerfucking so quickly. He was gentle, domineering, shy, sure of himself and a dozen other contradictory things. All I can say is that he did me as well as a man twice his age could have, every bit as well as I had done myself the previous night. His fingers slid in and out of my pussy to the point where I thought I would come before he ever got his prick into my body.
I continued to jerk Peter off, of course, but didn't blow him this time around, although my mouth was literally watering for another taste of his huge, magnificent cock. No, the boy was young and I didn't want him popping his cork early. There would be plenty of time for me to get another mouthful of come later.
"That's my clitoris," I answered Peter's unspoken question. "Just brush it with your finger, mmmmmmm, yeah, like that. It's very sensitive, just like the head of your cock."
Peter did that, in a way that showed me I had little more to teach him. He pressed the tip of one finger against my clitty and I could feel the little gland stiffening and filling up with blood immediately. I didn't feel like I was in a dream any more, needless to say. I was alive, gloriously, physically alive, turned on in every pore of my hot, lusting body.
"FUCK ME, Peter," I heard myself pleading. "Shove that big thing into my cunt. Give me every inch of your prick."
If Peter was shocked by my language he did nothing to show it. He got back on top of me and let me guide his cock slowly against the opening of my pussy. Wet and wide-open as I was, it was still difficult to wedge that swollen sword into my fuck hole. Luckily, Peter was still able to take things slow and easy.
The head of his tumid cock finally slid between my labia, pulling the membranes apart and turning me on more than I had dreamed possible. I spread my legs a little wider and let him sink down on top of me. His muscles were hard and tight but he still wasn't moving, not knowing what he was supposed to do next.
I tightened my cunt and pulled his prick in another two inches with the force of my contracted sphincters. Peter sighed quietly and then his whole body shuddered. I didn't know what was going on in his mind but it was obvious that he was digging the feel of my twat, realizing just how good fucking could be.
Undoubtedly a fourteen year old boy doesn't need all that much sexual stimulation to get his rocks off. Perhaps another woman would have turned Peter on just as well. But I felt that there was a bond between us, a sense of fateful unity and synergy, a shared knowledge that we were into something incomprehensibly good.
Anyway, I sucked Peter's dick deeper and deeper into my twat until he finally hit bottom. I could feel his balls resting against my ass-hole and then his pubic hair rubbing against my aroused clit. We stayed like that for what seemed an hour, not moving and hardly breathing, getting used to each other you could say.
I was the first to move, grinding my ass down into the mattress and then lifting my hips up toward Peter's body. I felt his cock pressing against my womb. It was almost painful to have that much cock inside me but my cunt was spewing its juices out copiously, lubricating me and easing Peter's inward path.
He pulled back a little, removing two inches of hard prick from my pussy before reinserting them in a slow, careful thrust. I couldn't help myself, I had to moan aloud even though I was scared of turning Peter off. But he smiled down at me and kissed me again, as if I were the young, nervous lover, a form of role reversal that I was to think about a lot later in our relationship.
It didn't take long for us to start moving together, using our bodies to increase the other's pleasure. Used as I was to my ex-husband's sluggish and perfunctory lovemaking, I couldn't believe how tender and sensitive Peter was, how hard he was trying to find what I like and do it as well as he could.
Not that he had much to worry about. Just the sight of his handsome face and the touch of his boyish body was enough to drive me half out of my mind with desire. Nonetheless, Peter fucked me better than any man before him. Even the insecurity he projected added to my lustful satisfaction.
"You can fuck me harder," I assured him. "Go ahead, shove your cock in as hard as you want. You can do anything to me, Peter. I NEED you, darling, please, fuck me harder-r-r-r-r!"
Peter lifted his body up and then shoved his prick full length into my sex-starved twat, almost knocking the breath out of my body as he took me by surprise. His prick tugged at my labia and filled my vulva to capacity, a huge, unbending rod of steel. It felt like he had reached the very center of my sensuality, had opened new vistas of sexual potentiality in my body.
"You're so beautiful, so fucking beautiful," Peter muttered. "I love it when you get tight around my prick."
It was a suggestion I acted on instantly, gripping my cunt muscles tightly around his plunging prick and making it almost impossible for Peter to move. We were locked together again, not moving at all, and I used the hiatus to change our position a little in a way that would make it better for both of us.
I lifted my legs and then crossed my ankles behind Peter's firm little ass, widening my slit and drawing him even deeper into my cunt. I locked my arms around his back and then buried my head against his armpit, inhaling deeply and thrilling to the spicy, masculine odor of his sweating young body.
Then I began to move again, wiggling my hips from side to side. I could feel his prick on every square inch of my inner membranes, stroking, caressing, heating me up from within. It was impossible for him to thrust in and out in that position but Peter began to rotate his cock inside me, stirring me and bringing my pleasure to a fevered pitch. He seemed so strong, so masculine, as if he could have lifted me off the bed suspended on his prick.
We moved faster, sweating heavily in the pitiless evening heat. My hair was matted and perspiration poured into my eyes but that didn't slow me down for a second. I continued to churn my hips and cunt, sliding my vulva along his cock as if jerking him off with an interior hand. And now Peter was thrusting his cock into me again, sliding along a trail of cunt honey.
I knew that I was going to come soon, relieving the only worry that could have spoiled my perfect bliss. We hadn't been fucking long and Peter didn't seem ready to shoot his load, but my body was absolutely on fire, raging with lust, crying out for more cock. My limbs got stiff and I couldn't see straight but I knew that in a few more moments I would find the needed release.
I unclasped my legs from Peter's ass, letting him fuck me freely. His cock moved faster and faster inside me, long, probing strokes that brought me to a frenzy of desire. If there's such a thing as an excess of erotic stimulation, that must have been what I was feeling. My orgasm approached and receded but my passion kept rising until I thought my body would burst.
But then it happened, the most devastating orgasm I had experienced in over twenty years of fucking. My cunt began to contract of its own volition and then I could feel the juices pouring out of it and soaking Peter down to the balls.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAHHJHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, Peter, Peter, I'm coming," I screamed directly into his ear. "YES, YES, YOU'RE MAKING ME COME WITH THAT HUGE COCK OF YOURS. Fuck me, Peter, keep fucking me, don't stop. AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
I must have come ten times, a series of climaxes that grew in intensity until I thought I would pass out. My cunt contracted painfully and then loosened, only to clamp down again. I wasn't moving but every muscle in my body was taut. Peter kept his cock buried to the hilt inside me for the duration of my orgasm.
I have no idea how long my orgasm lasted, though you can be sure it seemed to go on indefinitely. It faded slowly, in another series of diminishing climaxes and then I was able to open my eyes and come back to my senses. My body was tired but no longer stiff or tense, perfectly satiated in other words.
"Are you all right, Margo?" Peter whispered to me. "You made me feel really good there when you came."
I assured Peter that I was more than all right. It was hard to find the right words but I guess my tone of voice and facial expression got the message across. I was rewarded with another of Peter's radiant smiles and then the boy was fucking me again, aware that sex was not a one-way street.
I just lay there for the next few moments, letting Peter do all the work. He experimented with different ways of fucking me at first, using every stroke in the book and a few new ones of his own devising. First he kept his cock buried all the way inside my cunt, pumping his hips and tightening his buttock muscles, which only served to turn me on all over again.
Then my lover pulled his prick out so that only the tumid glans remained embedded inside me. He used short, choppy strokes, digging the feel of my clinging membranes. I could feel his cock throbbing palpably inside me and figured that he would fire his wad in just a few seconds more.
But Peter surprised me at that point, delaying his orgasm as long as he could, not wanting to truncate his first fuck. He banged me good and hard from then on, using every live muscle in his healthy adolescent body, giving up his inhibitions completely. I moved with him a little but it wasn't really necessary. He was more than able to take of himself at that late stage of the game.
His balls slapped against my ass with every powerful thrust, making loud, wet noises inside my cunt. I could feel a puddle of pussy juice forming on the mattress beneath me and soon my sense of smell was almost overwhelmed by my own secretions. And Peter kept fucking me, bouncing up and down on top of my body, lost in a wild frenzy of uncontrollable adolescent passion.
He shoved his prick into me one last time and then I felt the huge machine ejaculating its juices. My cunt was full of cock but I bore down with every muscle, trying to milk the come from his rod Then I heard him let out his breath and scream his passion aloud, as I had done a few seconds earlier.
"Here it comes, Margot, I can't stop myself," he groaned. "I'm going to shoot in your cunt, right in your fat, juicy cunt. AAAAAAAAAA-AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH, hold still, OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH fuck, just lie there and let me fuck you! I'm coming, shit, I CANT STOP! I'm COMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!"
I felt an ocean of semen shooting into me, pouring into the bottom of my pussy and then leaking back out after I had been filled to capacity. Three separate streams of jism poured into me until I could practically taste the stuff. And Peter kept fucking me after his balls had run dry, kept shoving his wilting prick into me as if he wanted things never to end.
I kissed him and then pushed Peter aside, figuring that we both could use a break. He was trembling like a leaf, surprised that fucking could have been so different from getting a blowjob. But Peter calmed down rather quickly, all things considered, lying beside me and smiling like he had just inherited a million.
"So, you like it, did you?" I teased him, not wanting things to get too solemn. "I bet you never thought an old bag like me would be a good fuck. Come on, admit it."
"I wanted you ever since we met in the store that time," Peter confessed. "I thought you were so beautiful, so sophisticated and sure of yourself. But i never thought you'd want to make it with me, Margot, it just didn't seem possible."
"You really don't think I'm old and ugly?"
"Shit, no," Peter answered almost angrily. "I was worried that you'd think I was just some horny kid, that you'd laugh at me."
Well, I did laugh at that point, but more at myself than at Peter. Of course he had been insecure about fucking me, any kid that age would have been. The important thing was that he didn't mind the disparity in our ages. I had known that all along, but it was comforting to hear him aver it so strongly.
There wasn't much more to say at that point. I looked at the clock and figured that I would have him for only another half hour or so. We hadn't said much about it, but we were determined to be cautious as far as his parents were concerned.
There wasn't enough time to fuck but I could suck him off again.
I didn't ask Peter for permission, but draped my body over his reclining form and went right for his prick. It was about half erect already from the vestiges of his recent orgasm and coated with a fine film of cunt honey. As soon as I touched him, Peter got hard, his prick jerking in my hands like landed fish. I could hardly wait to get the big thing into my hungry mouth.
I held Peter's prick by the base and then pressed a wet kiss to its tip, running my tongue into the come-slit. Peter shuddered as I got him hot and bothered all over again. I had a feeling that it wouldn't take too long for him to come and within a few more seconds knew that I was right in spades.
Peter's prick remained stationary as I started to suck it but he kept his hands busy exploring my body. His touch was very tender and affectionate as he caressed my ass and cunt, shoving his finger deep into my vulva and then experimenting with ass-hole a little. Then he cupped both my tits in his hands, stroking my nipples until they were tight and hard and puckered.
I closed my lips around the collar of his cock and then used my tongue on his glans, licking it over and over again until the spongy crown was dripping wet. I reached down for Peter's balls, holding the hairless sac carefully and manipulating the soft orbs, trying to coax the come out of them.
I decided to have some fun with Peter, knowing that he had reached a level of sexual sophistication wherein he would appreciate a virtuoso display of my talents. I let his prick slide all the way out of my mouth and then started to lick it, beginning at the thick base and working my loving way up to the head.
Peter put one hand on the nape of my neck, keeping my head in position. I flicked my tongue out and hit the tip of his cock repeatedly, looking like a hummingbird gathering nectar from a flower. My tongue moved like a snake's tongue, darting in and out of my mouth, hitting his cock from every conceivable angle.
When every inch of Peter's cock was dripping wet I took it back into my mouth, framing it with my lips and sucking hard enough to draw a gasp of approval from my lover. I decided to service the full seven inches again, not stopping until I could feel my lips pressed up against his sparse pubic tresses.
Never in my life had I wanted anything as badly as I wanted a dollop of Peter's come to shoot into the back of my throat. I kept his prick in the depths of my mouth for a moment and then relinquished a few inches of it, biting gently into the base and continuing to use my tongue to its best advantage.
Peter was breathing good and hard now, showing me that he was almost there. He began to thrust his cock upward, hitting it against the back of my throat and making me nauseous. I kept sucking him off and playing with his balls, knowing that the end was near, that I would soon receive my saline reward.
My head bounced up and down like a machine, covering every centimeter of Peter's lunging cock. I rubbed my tits against him, squeezed his balls harder, wanting his come soon. I could taste a drop or two of the viscous liquid and that spurred me on to new heights, to the best blowjob I had ever given a man.
My tongue danced over his prick, licking each vein, never stopping for a second. My whole body was swaying back and forth, pulling at the come welling up in his balls. Peter stopped moving and I knew that the boy was ready to fly, ready to squirt his young jizz deep into my straining, hungry throat.
His prick exploded, rocketing a salvo of semen into me and fulfilling my desires completely. I kept his prick half inserted in my mouth and refused to let it go as one glob of come after another invaded my mouth. Peter's balls were tight against his body as he continued to shoot. This time he didn't make a sound, lying there as if paralyzed as his orgasm ran its course.
I downed the juices without hesitation, loving the taste of that thick, salty come. It was like an elixir of life for me, as if his youth were pouring into my mouth. At last the flow was staunched and I could feel him starting to go soft. I let Peter's cock out of my mouth and was proud to see that not a single drop of come remained on its taut, shiny surface.
Peter had to go soon after that, but only after apologizing for his early departure. I would have liked to keep him there for the whole night but it was out of the question even as a fantasy. In any case, I knew I'd see him at work the next day and that there was a good chance of luring him back to my house afterward.
It took less than fifteen minutes for me to undress, get into bed and fall asleep. I kind of wanted to stay up and relive the experience of taking Peter's cherry but I was tired, physically and emotionally drained. And when I got up at dawn the next day it all came back to me, the whole beautiful affair.
CHAPTER THREE
Exactly two weeks after that fateful night when I first fucked Peter Bloy we were lying in bed together; naked of course. We had fucked four times already and in four different positions. It was half past ten and Peter wasn't getting ready to leave, wasn't even thinking about it yet.
We had spent at least two hours together every day but two and this was the first time Peter felt safe in staying late. Our sex life had flourished despite the schedule, but I wasn't happy about the way things were going this particular night. Not even after the four orgasms my lover had laid on me.
Peter was leaving town for five or six weeks and this represented our last night together. He had been awarded a scholarship to a baseball camp of all goddamn things and there was no way his parents were going to let Peter turn it down. I didn't want to think about whether he really wanted to or not.
We both accepted it, tried to take his impending departure in stride. We decided not to do anything special, just to spend the evening in my bedroom, as usual. Only this time our passion soared to new heights. We were trying to be cool, but our bodies burned with a fire that couldn't be quenched.
Anyway, I was lying prone on the mattress with my face buried in a pillow and my ass sticking straight out behind me. My thighs were parted and Peter's head was buried in my groin, his long tongue darting in and out of my pussy. He was moving his tongue kind of slowly but still turning me on, even though we hadn't taken a break in over two hours of fucking and sucking.
Peter had become one hell of a stud in bed during those three weeks. It wasn't just that he was young and strong and virile, but that he understood what a woman needed without having to think about it consciously. I had never believed that there could be men like that but he had converted me effortlessly.
His tongue slid all the way into my cunt and stayed there for a long moment. I lifted and lowered my pelvis lazily, grinding my pussy walls around that soft intruding organ. I didn't want to come again, I really didn't, but if I let Peter go on that way for much longer I wasn't going to have any choice in the matter.
Then my young lover varied the routine, drawing his tongue slowly out of my cunt and sloshing it around my perineum, that little piece of skin between cunt and ass-hole. He worked assiduously, getting me good and wet before inserting the tip of his tongue into my tight little bunghole.
Gone were all thoughts of relaxation, of taking it easy for a few minutes. Peter dug his tongue into me a little deeper and then I was flying again, my body consumed with lust. He must have like the taste of my ass-hole pretty well because he didn't stop, not until his saliva was running out of me.
Pretty soon Peter's tongue was replaced with a fingertip which easily wormed its way into me. I had never experimented much with anal sex in the past. In fact, I had never been fucked that way. In my younger days I had been willing to try anything but Charlie's imagination had never run in that direction.
Peter, to put it mildly, was a little bolder in desire and in action. He pushed his index finger deeper into my ass-hole and I did my best to loosen my sphincter muscles. The feeling of anal penetration was strange and not a little disorienting, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't turning me on.
I didn't have to turn around to know that Peter had a hard-on. He was now alternating finger and tongue, getting me wet and wide and receptive in my virgin ass-hole. I could hear him breathing heavily and as his caresses became more insistent knew that pretty soon he meant to corn-hole me.
"Go ahead and do it," I told him superfluously. "I want you inside me. Go slow, Peter. Your prick is so BIG, and nobody's ever fucked me in the ass-hole before."
Peter didn't bother to answer. He licked my ass-hole for a few moments more, reaming me out in every possible manner. A second finger joined the first and I started to feel the strain. Then he left off caressing me and I could hear him getting into position, getting ready to force his prick into my body.
I arched my back and spread my knees wider and then I could feel his prick pushing against my ass-hole, hot and hard and seeming to have grown at least another three inches. I was willing to do anything to please Peter but had little confidence that he could fuck me that way without splitting me up the middle.
Peter leaned forward and used his fingers to guide his prick home. The head of his stiff scepter went into my spit-wetted ass-hole fairly easily. I was feeling soft and sensual and receptive and I actually leaned back against him, wanting the boy to effect penetration quickly, before I died of suspense.
He took his time about entering me, which was for the best for both of us. I felt my anal membranes stretching and then my muscles tightened convulsively, almost expelling Peter's prick from my anal opening. I was able to relax again and this time he managed to get at least three inches of cock into my narrowest opening.
Peter waited a moment and then forged ahead, exploring my last frontier. His prick bent a little as it was wedged into me but not for a moment did he stop his inward progress. He was almost there but suddenly his prick was too big for me. It was tearing me apart, rearranging my body from within. I was in pain, skewered helplessly on that thick rod.
"Easy, please go slow," I managed to gasp. "Don't go all the way into me yet. It's too BIG! I just can't take it!"
"Just a little more," Peter said soothingly. "Relax, open up as wide as you can. This feels so good, Margot, I don't want to stop, not until I come in your sweet ass-hole."
With that, Peter twisted his hips and managed to stuff the rest of his cock into my distended anal aperture. I winced and started to fall forward but he put one hand on each of my hips and held me firmly in position. I could feel his balls slap against my cunt as he completed penetration but I was still in pain.
Peter kept his prick rooted to the hilt in my ass-hole for several seconds. I got used to it fairly quickly but it was a strange feeling to be on my hands and knees, totally helpless and unable to move a muscle. I had never been penetrated so deeply, so completely. I had never been so weak and helpless. He could have done anything he wanted to me.
But Peter only wanted to give me pleasure while he served his own overwhelming lust. He pulled his prick back a few inches and then eased it into me slowly. I breathed easier after that, knowing that I could take it, that I wasn't going to be damaged while impaled on my young lover's throbbing cock.
Peter reached around my body and groped for my tits, finally cupping them in both his hands. He squeezed my tits hard and worked on my nipples with strong, knowing fingers. It felt nice but I wasn't sexually turned on any more. I wanted him to have fun but didn't see how I could join him.
He began to corn-hole me, fucking my ass-hole slowly and cautiously but with growing passion. I went numb for a minute or two but then I got into the rhythm of my anal defloration and actually started liking it. I was proud of myself, felt free and womanly, knew that I had given my all to my fourteen year old stud.
"It feels so good, Margot, so tight and slick," Peter whispered. "I'll come pretty soon-I know I will. I love you, Margot, I love you for letting me fuck you."
I couldn't argue with that logic, not when I was starting to dig the feel of having Peter's cock deep in my yielding ass-hole. At that point, I decided to move with him, to make things even better for my lover. My ass-hole had loosened up considerably and my confidence was growing by leaps and bounds.
I ground my ass into his midsection, knowing that he'd like the feel of the silky, tawny skin of my big soft buttocks. It drove his cock even deeper into my anal orifice but that was all right, I knew I could take it. And I could hear Peter groaning lustily, digging what I was doing to him.
We really got into it after that. Peter stopped moving and let me work on his cock, and I did that in more ways than you could imagine. I bucked my hips back and forth and writhed my ass from side to side and tightened my anal sphincters around his cock until Peter was ready to beg me for mercy. And all the while I could feel my own passion rising by slow degrees.
Peter made things even better for me by playing with my pussy and clitoris. He let go of my hips and then surrounded my body with his long arms and then I could feel wet fingers groping at my snatch. He was fucking me a lot harder by that time but he couldn't do it too hard for my taste.
His finger touched my clitoris and I almost came on the spot. I moved faster than ever, banging my ass into his stomach and feeling his balls slap up against me at the end of each of Peter's powerful thrusts. My cunt was dripping wet, its juices mingling on my ass and thighs with the spit that poured out of my ass-hole.
It was really something to be able to enjoy anal sex so much the first time around, but I wasn't altogether surprised by my reactions. Sex had always been good with Peter. There wasn't a time I could remember when things hadn't gone right for us in bed. This time was no exception.
Peter and I moved in perfect harmony, he driving his cock deep into my moist clinging ass-hole and I writhing and swaying beneath him, using every muscle in my body to make myself a perfect receptacle for his lust. And his fingers, still playing with my cunt and clitoris, kept me constantly aroused.
Peter slowed down a little and began to relish the feel of my tight anal aperture. He pulled most of his cock out and then rotated the head inside me, guiding it in and out with a clenched hand. I took a look over my shoulder at my young lover and he was more beautiful than ever, his face gleaming and his muscles getting taut and defined as he approached orgasm.
His cock slid back into my bunghole and Peter ground his hips against my buttocks, once again rooting me to the spot. My ass-hole had begun to dry out a little but I could still handle his most violent thrusts with ease. When he began to move fast again, I knew he was losing his ability to hold back.
Moving with him again, I gave Peter the ride of his young life. I don't know where I got the strength from, how I was able to bend and twist my body like that, how I could ripple my inner muscles around his probing shaft, but I did all that much and more, until Peter was finally ready to void his juices.
Peter slammed his cock into my ass-hole, almost knocking me over as he shifted into overdrive. His prick moved faster until it must have looked like a blur. I could feel the blood throbbing in the thick veins that lined his rod and I could feel his balls banging against me with every stroke.
Then he started to come, taking long, hard strokes and holding my buttocks together with his strong hands. I felt his cock contract deep inside my ass-hole and then come poured into me with all the force of a water cannon. It was incredible to feel it rush into me so violently, but it washed me out and lubricated my ass-hole, soothing my irritated inner membranes.
"I'M COMING, FUCK IT MARGOT, I'm coming," Peter shouted behind me. "I'M GOING TO COME RIGHT IN YOUR ASSHOLE. Oooooooooohhhhhh, fuck, can't hold it back. AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!"
And then another stream of come cascaded into my tight anal channel. Peter's cock continued to contract and he continued to scream with uninhibited lust. It seemed like an hour before his cock went soft inside me, and even then he persisted in fucking me for awhile before finally pulling out.
I stayed in the same position, letting the sweat cool on my body and trying to catch my breath. I felt .empty with Peter gone and slightly dizzy and out of things. My cunt was still burning with lust but I was too exhausted to want further stimulation. A moment later I let myself collapse forward and then a stream of thick come leaked bubbling out of my ass-hole, forming a sticky puddle on the sheet between my spread thighs.
"I feel so shitty about leaving tomorrow," Peter told me a few minutes later. "You won't want me anymore, you'll just think of me as a nice kid you had some fun with."
"Hold it, junior," I told him. "Take my word for it, it's a lot more-likely you'll forget about me. Don't even talk about it, Peter. You'll be back in a month or so and then we'll see. But I'll be waiting for you, you can count on that."
I probably said that kind of melodramatically but essentially every word was the truth. I loved Peter and I couldn't see how a separation would change my feelings. It didn't hurt to know that he'd be in an all-male environment, away from the clutches of potential young rivals.
"You can have sex with other girls if you want," I could afford to tell him. "Really, I won't be jealous at all. Maybe you'll even learn a few new tricks for when you get back."
That wasn't such a good thing to say. Peter looked at me with big hurt eyes and was afraid to ask the question that was foremost in his mind. I didn't promise to be faithful to him for the simple reason that I couldn't predict my own actions. I was going to miss Peter sorely and who was to say whether or not I'd try to console myself in the arms and bed of some other male.
I had never been a stickler for fidelity, though I suppose in ten years of marriage I had cheated on Charlie less than five times. Also, I just didn't want to be possessive about Peter. It seemed the worst possible attitude, the one thing that could wreck our perfect, mutually satisfying relationship.
I didn't know how Peter felt about fidelity and doubt that he really had an opinion. like any man, he would have preferred to put his woman in suspended animation during his absence, but it was a good time for him to learn that life wasn't that simple. We didn't discuss it any further, which was probably a good thing.
We did talk about all sorts of other things, mostly safe topics like shared jokes and reminiscences, and, of course, sex. I tried to explain to Peter just how fantastic in bed he was but he didn't really understand me. He knew what I meant when I told him how much I valued his youth. He insisted that he benefited more from the disparity in our ages than I did.
That initiated a bout of mock-argument which could lead to only one thing. After we had insulted each other and joked for a few minutes Peter changed the tone and said he wanted to do something really nice for me before he left. It didn't take long for me to figure out just what the young stud had in mind.
He pushed me down onto my back and then spread my legs apart with his surprisingly strong hands. Within another ten seconds he was lying down before me with his head wedged between my tan thighs. His fingers stroked my black pubic tresses and then he was ready to eat out my ever-hungry snatch.
I felt Peter's tongue glide over the entrance of my cunt, teasing my sensitive labia before giving me the real thing. It was hardly the first time he'd turned me on with his lips and tongue but this time he pulled out all stops, ate me out in a way that should have been recorded for posterity.
Looking down at Peter, seeing his blonde hair falling over his forehead, feeling his tongue being driven deep into my unresisting cunt was more than I'd ever hoped for from a man. Maybe I was losing him for good but that didn't stop me from responding to the virile lad's importunate caresses.
Peter ran his tongue along the length of my outer labia and then finally penetrated my vaginal citadel. I felt his tongue rimming me and then it was inside, licking away lustily, gathering up the overflow of my secretions. Peter smiled up at me, showing that he was enjoying himself while eating me.
I reached down and held his head in place, tangling my fingers in his fine platinum hair. He dug his tongue deeper into my twat and I moaned with ecstasy. I had forgotten how turned on I'd been while being corn-holed but it all came back to me in a rush. It wasn't going to take him long to bring me off.
Peter swished his tongue around inside my pussy and I clamped down on him, contracting my vaginal sphincters and trapping his tongue deep inside me. I squirmed from side to side on the bed, especially when he'd come up with a really good stroke, one that would leave me weak and begging for more.
His tongue left my cunt but only for as long as it took to get at my always sensitive clitty. I felt his tongue seeking it out, pushing the folds of my labia smooth until the little button was defenseless against his assault. A surge of warmth passed through my whole body as he began to lick and suck my clit, a sensation of complete fulfillment just a few moments in the future.
Peter worked on my clitoris for a good long time, biting gently into it with his regular white front teeth. He kept switching from tongue to lips to teeth, an amalgam of differing sensations that kept me constantly off balance. He was controlling me completely, dictating my bodily reactions, putting all his erotic skill to work as he took me on a journey to pleasure.
I came close to coming while he was working on my clit, but Peter wasn't going to let me off that easy. He wanted to plumb the depths of my sensuality, make me come as I had never come before. It was frustrating but I couldn't fight against him, knowing that I'd thank him for it in the end.
He slowed down his assault on my clitoris, brushing it with the tip of his tongue and then reaching slowly upward to get at my tits. I felt his fingers closing on my nipples and soon a second part of my body was overcome with lust. Writhing beneath him on the bed I was finally able to forget that I'd be losing my lover that very night, maybe losing him for good.
"Put it back into my cunt," I pleaded. "I love it when I can feel you all the way inside me."
By that point my clit had become fully distended and unbearably sensitive. Each stroke of Peter's tongue made me stiffen with unslaked lust. I let my breath out loudly when he finally relented, spreading my thighs a little wider to facilitate his entrance into my vulva. His tongue darted in quickly, relaxing me this time but not letting my passion wane very far.
I closed my thighs around Peter's head and abandoned myself to his impassioned caresses. He slid his tongue into me slowly and deeply and I could hear him breathing through his nose. I stopped rolling around on the bed and dug each stroke of that talented tongue, filled with admiration for the young stud.
Peter varied the routine again, cupping both his hands under my ass and practically lifting me off the mattress. He squeezed my buttocks hard and I felt the tip of his index finger sliding into my ass-hole. At the same time, my pelvis had been tilted upward, giving his tongue an easier target.
I could feel the come collecting in the bottom of my twat, an unending flow of thick vaginal secretions. Peter's tongue made loud sloshing noises inside me and his saliva flowed freely from my cunt to my ass-hole. Hot as it was, I felt we were going to flow off the bed in a river of sweat and come.
Peter took his tongue out of my cunt and replaced it with a finger. That felt good but it was even better when he put his tongue on my clitty again. That sensitive button had calmed down a little in the interim and now I was ready for anything he chose to give me. My passion was near the breaking point and there was nothing more he could do to slow down my orgasm.
He kept leading me, though, bringing me close to a climax and then holding me back at the last possible second. I ground my ass into the mattress, sucked at his fingers and tongue with my pussy muscles, pressed my hand against the back of his neck. It was too much to take, too much stimulation. My cunt, my clit, my ass-hole, nothing was safe from his caresses.
But then I found peace in the midst of sexual torment. I had made the transition from frustration to fulfillment almost imperceptibly. One moment I was waiting and the next coming. My spasms began quite slowly but built up to a pitch of intensity that even Peter had never before been able to evoke.
His tongue stayed still inside my snatch as my contractions began. I closed my eyes and let my body go, feeling my muscles ripple, feeling my cunt flutter as it spurted out rivulets of come. My discharge spatted all over Peter's face, but that had happened to us before and I knew he liked it.
He moved his tongue again as my second series of contractions began. I felt blinded, transported, converted to a frothing lunatic. I tried to scream but no sound issued from my lips. As I continued to come, consciousness returned. I could trust my senses again, enjoy my orgasm with total concentration.
"I'M COMING AGAIN, Peter, you're making me come," I screamed. "YES, YES, KEEP YOUR TONGUE IN MY CUNT. AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-EEEEEIIIIIIIII!!!!!! Oh, don't stop now, I want to come again. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
Peter continued to lap my pussy, drinking my juices with a loud gargling sound. His finger was out of my cunt and then I could feel it on my clit, torturing me, dragging out the last vestiges of my passion. It was as if Peter was reading my mind, anticipating my desires, finally letting me down slowly, letting me relish the last of my passion.
He pulled his head away from me and then we reclined together, side by side on my swaybacked mattress. We kissed and I could taste my come in Peter's mouth. We talked again for awhile but I have no recollection of what either of us said. It was just about time for him to leave, a fact we couldn't ignore.
Our actual parting was brief and devoid of anguish. We had proved our love and neither of us had asked for this separation. We kissed and I stood at the doorway as Peter got into his car, revved the motor and pulled slowly away into the night. The sky was clear but there weren't too. many stars visible.
I fell out early that night and awoke the next morning with my mind made up. There was no reason to torture myself about Peter's absence. I was going to miss him no matter what I did, but perhaps I'd miss him less if I diverted myself with another man. In no way would fucking somebody else detract from my love for Peter.
Leaving Peter aside, I had good reasons for wanting to broaden my sexual horizons. I had spent ten years in a miserable marriage and had almost forgotten what it was like to be engaged in a sexually exciting relationship with a man. I had to find out about my own capacities for love, involvement and sex.
I had to find something else out, too, whether Peter was the exception to a rule or the start of a new rule. I had never made it with a young boy before him and although I could remember being sexually attracted to boys before, nothing in my past seemed to have led up to my attraction to Peter.
So, I had to discover whether he was the one and only young man in my life or if I had been on the wrong track for years. All sorts of other possibilities cropped up in my mind and in every case I could think only in abstract terms. I had no experiences to compare, no pattern to work from, no precedents for what I had done. It was all so confusingly new.
But there was a simple way to find out about myself, about what I wanted and needed, what I could and couldn't do. I had ignored my sexual drives for too long and by extension a good half of my personality. I began to see myself as a closed-off person, someone who had chosen to hide from life, an image that I found unpleasant but justified.
Peter had done me a favor that could never be repaid. He had rescued me from my self-image, that of a quiet, resigned, lackadaisical middle-aged woman. Fire burned in my body now and curiosity pricked my mind. I was going to go out and discover myself, alone and in the arms of my lovers.
CHAPTER FOUR
I waited until three days after Peter's departure to start shopping around for another man. I can't say that I was especially happy without him but the days passed quickly enough to keep me from going nuts. I worked late at the store, fixed up my apartment and read during the evenings.
When Saturday rolled around, I was ready for some action. It was a nice day, clear and not terribly hot when I got up early in the morning. I fixed up a few sandwiches, packed some cold beer and then got into my faithful Ford. Ten minutes later I was out of Delford and in the middle of the desert.
I grew up in a hot climate and never minded the desert, but this particular day I wanted to go somewhere cool. Heading due north I reached a state park in just under two hours, an elevated spot with streams, trees and a small lake. I couldn't believe how green it was after a lifetime of sand and sagebrush.
The park was fairly crowded but that was all right with me, since I was hoping to meet some eligible man or other. I suppose my attitude towards things was pretty selfish and calculating, but what the hell, I had had it good with Peter and I was used to the comforts and pleasures of men.
I hiked halfway up a mountain, ate my lunch, went for a swim and did all the other healthy outdoorsy things I could think of. Several people engaged me in conversation but there was nobody I really like. Basically it was a family scene, couples with young children, and I began to despair of finding anybody.
Still, I stuck it out for another hour, not willing to face my lonely cottage before nightfall. After a brief, refreshing nap I wandered along a nature trail and then, after half an hour of walking ran into something promising. A boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, was sitting under a tree eating. He smiled at me and that was all the invitation I needed to join him.
His name was Bruce Moore and I found out all about him in short order. Bruce was, in short, a fool for the great outdoors, a hiker, hunter, fisherman and budding naturalist. He camped out whenever possible and didn't seem to have too many friends. Nor did he say anything about girlfriends.
He did seem interested in me, though, and that was a good thing since I had been taken by him from the first. Bruce was about six feet tall, red-haired and green eyed, muscular and ridiculously healthy looking, a regular advertisement for the great outdoors, a boy I wanted at once.
"Are you going to camp here or go back home tonight?" he asked me after I had refused a sandwich. "I have a pretty big tent that I'm going to set up in a few hours."
"I was going to leave," I told him, "not having any camping equipment and all. Besides, they only have a few campsites and I imagine you need a reservation weeks in advance."
"Hell with that," Bruce answered. "I don't want to be around all those people with their portable televisions. I'm just going into the woods tonight and you're sure welcome to join me."
I've never really been the outdoor type myself, despite living most of my life in the country. In fact, I had never spent a night in a tent before. But Bruce's invitation was not something I could forego too easily. For all I knew it was going to be a totally Platonic night, but that was a chance I had to take. It was better than going home alone.
"Sure, I'll camp with you," I agreed. "But you have to protect me from the snakes and bears."
That made Bruce laugh, after which we got quite chummy. I played it straight for the first two hours, helping him erect the tent, gather wood, build a fire and cook supper. I wasn't especially comfortable out in the back of beyond but I must say I did a pretty good job helping him set up camp.
We ate and talked some more and pretty soon it was time for bed. That was when things got interesting. Bruce led me into the tent and I saw that there was only one sleeping bag, definitely a promising sign. Anyway, Bruce got out of most of his clothing without even looking at me, giving me something to think about.
When in Rome, undress with the natives, I figured, and quickly got out of my jeans and tee shirt. It was damn cold already compared with nights at lower elevation and I was into that sleeping bag while Bruce was still fiddling with the tent flaps. I thought I would freeze solid before he finally joined me.
Bruce stripped himself to the skin before getting under the covers with me, walking around and breathing deep, evidently enjoying the gelid night air. He joined me and lay flat on his back, not saying a word to me. I figured he would be sleeping in five minutes if I didn't do something to get the ball rolling.
"Bruce, you do like me, don't you?" I asked softly.
"Oh yeah, Margot, you're nice. I mean, not many women your age would want to camp out in the wilderness like this."
"Thanks," I added with sarcasm. "Move a little closer to me, Bruce, I'm still freezing and I don't feel comfortable."
I had guessed right. Bruce had been shyly waiting for just such an invitation. He slid over next to me and soon his body heat had warmed me enough to get me out of my underwear. I pressed myself up against him tits first and then he kissed me, pressing his mouth directly against my lips.
We were off and running. As Bruce fastened his lips to mine, I stared through the screened air vents and saw that they sky was bright with stars that ran together into milky clusters. Bruce climbed on top of me, no easy feat in that narrow sleeping bag, and I soon felt his tongue plunging between my lips.
I wrapped my arms around his hard body and let his chest crush my tits almost flat. Bruce smelled like dew or pollen and his skin was very soft and dry. His musculature was crisply delineated so that I could feel each square of his rippling abdomen. Bruce knew how to kiss well enough but I wasn't at all sure that he'd know how to go all the way.
But Bruce made a pretty good showing for himself that night. He reached down for my tits and his touch was light but confident. My nipples responded to his ministrations instantly, tightening and puckering up, sensitive as hell. I couldn't detect any sign of an erection from my partner but didn't let that worry me.
I let him work on my tits awhile, enjoying it especially when he stopped squeezing and massaging them and used his tongue to drive my passion higher. He fastened his lips to each of my nipples in turn and was not especially gentle in the way he tugged at those sensitive pink pads. Still, I like it that way, it seemed in character with our environment.
Bruce sucked my big, broad nipples like there would be no tomorrow. His saliva cascaded all over my chest but it wasn't cold any longer. Our bodies, rubbing repeatedly together, had heated up that tent pretty well. I was sweating already, though my new lover's skin remained dry.
I sucked his tongue deep into my mouth and then decided to have some fun for myself. Reaching down slowly in the darkness, I located his prick, semi-erect but bent downward toward his knees. We had to roll around a little to liberate it from the confines of the sleeping bag before I could get a proper grip.
After that it was sheer paradise. I couldn't see much but could feel that Bruce's prick was short, thick and just about fully erect. Its skin was very hot and dry and the veins on its underside bulged dangerously. It was thicker at the base than at the head and I had no objection to taking into my hungry snatch.
I though for a brief moment that Bruce's tool reminded me very much of Charlie's, which showed just how out of touch with things I was. I had been with so few men since a brief spell of adolescent promiscuity that I made ridiculous comparisons between them, just to keep my bearings. Fortunately, it was hard to stay angry at myself while having such a good fucking time.
Bruce kept his head buried in my chest while I jerked him off. I pulled the skin of his collar taut and then gripped his cock tightly by the base, feeling the blood course through that thick, blunt shaft. The back of my hand rested against my open pussy and the friction kept me hot and bothered.
I gave Bruce a really good hand-job before he got around to planking me, delighted with my ability to hop right into the sack with a new lover. He wasn't as young as Peter, not as handsome and probably not as virile, but the comparison didn't bother me, didn't stop me from having a ball that night.
Bruce lowered his body further onto mine and then his prick was rubbing against my stomach as well as my hand. He ran his fingers along my torso, tickling me a little but keeping me aroused, and then this hand touched my twat. He didn't seem to know much about sex but he wasn't completely inexperienced.
His index finger slid between my labia, into the hungry cavity of my open, dripping vulva. I sighed with lust and gripped his cock a little tighter, guiding it towards my pussy. I like the way he was finger-fucking me, using long, deep, penetrating strokes that couldn't help but turn me on.
"Kiss it," Bruce whispered to me when his prick was almost inside my twat. "Just for a minute. Take it in your mouth."
Anxious as I was to get laid at that point, I had nothing against giving the boy a taste of my oral abilities. I could tell now that he had never fucked before and was putting it off until his nerves calmed. His fingers slid out of my burning cunt and then I rearranged myself, ducking my head under the cover and groping in pitch darkness for his stiff penis.
I found it easily enough and wasted no time in taking the thick organ between my lips. I had no intention of letting Bruce come in my mouth before he fucked me, though later on he would find me a willing receptacle in all three orifices.
For the moment, I got my lips around his prick and sucked at it lustily, loving the clean taste of his warm skin.
Bruce's prick was soon bathed in my saliva. I ran my tongue along the length of his shaft, tickled his glans, did everything I could to please my young lover. I only blew him for a few seconds. He didn't seem ready to come yet but you could never tell what was going to happen with a young, inexperienced boy.
"I'm ready now," Bruce whispered. "I want to fuck you, Margot, I want to stick it into your twat."
My sentiments exactly. I spit Bruce's dong out of my mouth and let him mount me again. I held his prick in my right hand and put it where it would do the most good, right at the entrance of my moist fuck-hole. Bruce groaned aloud as he entered me but I knew he wasn't nearly ready to shoot his wad.
His cock was a perfect size and shape for my cunt, filling me to the brim without hurting me or making me uncomfortable. I parted my thighs wide and didn't move for a few seconds, letting Bruce get used to me. He seemed to like my cunt well enough and soon nature took its course and he began fucking me.
His slow, tentative strokes turned me on good and proper. I really liked the fact that he didn't know what he was doing, that the whole experience was new and exciting and fascinating for him. I could share in some of that passion, could once again empathize and identify with my handsome young lover.
This time there was none of the emotional bond that had existed between me and Peter Bloy. It was a matter of two healthy, horny people getting it on with no aim but pure sensual gratification. Actually, I had no idea what was going on in Peter's mind but he certainly seemed in control of his feelings.
His confidence grew rather quickly, to the point where he was soon giving me a fucking to be proud of. His cock was very thick and it stretched my labia nicely, creating a lot of pressure and friction in the recesses of my cunt. I figured that it was high time for me to get in on some of the fun.
The ground beneath me was hard but I dug my ass into it and moved my hips from side to side, making my cunt tighter around Bruce's probing cock. He raised his body up and balanced his weight on outstretched palms, robbing me of contact with his body but driving his tool even deeper into me. We held that position for a long moment, loving every second of it.
Then Bruce started to pork me again, wiggling his hard boyish ass and stirring me with his cock. I touched his arms and they were rock-hard, unbending strands of muscle and bone. His body was incredible, even in the dark, a perfect, sculptured physique that was as powerful as it was graceful.
I began to think that he might have done some fucking before meeting me. Bruce experimented a little, dipping his body and entering me at different angles. He used a sort of corkscrew motion that really got me going, never letting more than an inch or two of his meat slide away from my hole.
I kept my legs bent and spread apart, making my cunt as wide and commodious as it could get. I didn't need to contract my cunt muscles around him yet. He was thick enough to keep me in a state of constant arousal and he never seemed to tire. In fact, he wasn't even breathing very heavily.
But then his body sank back down on top of me and Bruce fucked me harder and faster, more to a purpose. The urgency in his new series of strokes showed me that he was almost ready to come. I myself was nowhere near my orgasm but I figured Bruce to be good for most of the night. He could get his rocks off now as long as he took care of my needs later on.
He began to slam his cock into my cunt, banging his pelvis against my pubic orbit, giving me a hell of a good ride. I locked my arms around his back and held Bruce close, wanting his orgasm to be really good. I was quite fond of the boy and it looked like things could only get better between us.
Faster and faster that fat cock cannonaded into my pussy until I went practically numb. Bruce was sweating now, his body emanating a strong but clean odor, very warm and masculine. All his muscles were tight now and he was moving hard. Then, at last, he dumped his load deep inside my waiting twat.
"MARGOT, MARGOT, it's happening, I'm coming," Bruce shouted. "KEEP MOVING LIKE THAT, MAKE YOUR CUNT TIGHT AROUND MY PRICK. Yes, yes, I love it like that. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I felt his prick spurting inside me, sending jets of hot frothing come into the bottom of my fuck box. I loved the feel of his come, loved knowing that I had turned him on so well. He kept pumping away at me after his prick had run dry and I like that too. There wasn't much I didn't like at that point, I guess.
A few moments later Bruce pulled his rapidly wilting prick out of my body and collapsed beside me in the sleeping bag. The tent seemed to be filled with vapor, probably from our sweating bodies, but it was very cozy and comforting to be there with him. I was almost converted to his way of life right then and there.
"That was so nice, Margot," he told me. "I mean, we really got along well, didn't we? You were so soft and smooth, so beautiful. Did you like it as much as I did?"
I assured Bruce that he had done a fine job of arousing my lust, hinting that I was ready for more whenever he was. But Bruce wanted to talk some more and I had to accept that. As it turned out, he was a reasonably good conversationalist and the time went by quickly as I learned about my second young lover.
It was kind of a one-sided conversation for several reasons. Bruce, like many adolescent boys, was fascinated with himself, although in a way that was more charming than egotistical. Also, he was very shy of asking me personal questions about myself. That was a good thing, as I didn't really know what to tell him. The first forty years of my life had been too dull to be worth recapitulating and I didn't feel right talking about my recent changes.
I came to the conclusion that Bruce and I didn't have much of a future together and that neither of us would lose much sleep over it. I could never really get into Bruce's way of life and it didn't seem like he wanted any permanent entanglements with a woman, not when he was so much more interested in camping.
But that didn't detract from the pleasure we felt in our night together, not by a long shot. I could feel Bruce's prick getting stiff against my body and knew he was ready to fuck me again. This time he wasn't going to be timid about it. In fact, he was going to fuck me the way I wanted, like it or not.
To that effect, I rolled over and got onto all fours, not the easiest feat in the world in a tight sleeping bag. I told Bruce just what to do, how to get behind me and work his dick into my cunt. He struggled a little getting into position but soon I could feel him against me, looking for my opening.
"That's right, Bruce," I encouraged him. "It's not so different from the other way except that you can get in even deeper. Oooooooooooo-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yeah, sock it to me, put it in all the way. You're going to make me come this time."
Bruce did as he was told and soon I didn't have to give him any further instructions. His prick fit nicely into my cunt and I could feel his balls against my thigh-tops and his hard, well-defined midsection resting against my big soft buttocks. Still turned on from our first fuck, I felt my cunt contracting as it produced a veritable river of come.
By that time we had kicked the sleeping bag away from our lusting bodies and were fucking freely. It was a little cold in the tent but I didn't mind it a bit. Bruce's big hard prick was generating all the heat I needed and both of us were again sweating heavily as we worked out our lust.
"Reach your arm around me, all the way around," I told my young lover. "Put your fingers right above where your prick goes in. Go ahead and do it."
I was sure that Bruce had no idea of what a woman's clitoris was for, but he followed my instructions once again and soon had me hotter than ever. My clitoris extended right away, coming out from its sheath hard and taut and hypersensitive. I was going good, loving every minute of our fuck.
"That's right, you're doing it perfectly," I encouraged Bruce. "Keep fucking me, you don't have to slow down."
Bruce slammed his cock into me good and hard and things got even better for both of us. For the first time I started to dig the fact that we were fucking out in the middle of nowhere. The only way to describe the scene was to call it primeval, just a man and a woman fucking in a state of nature.
We didn't say much to each other for the next several minutes. Our bodies did the talking for us, writhing and grinding together in a rising spiral of mutual passion. I thought of Peter for a moment but didn't make another comparison between the two boys. Bruce was good enough on his own terms.
He kept playing with my clitoris until I couldn't take it anymore. His caresses were anything but gentle, as a result of his lack of sexual experience. I pushed his fingers away after a few more seconds and then contented myself with the feel of his cock and balls in and upon my body.
But Bruce wasn't done experimenting. He stretched his arm out further until his hand came into contact with my tits, which by that point were pressed down almost onto the floor of the tent. He gripped my knockers good and hard and soon had my nipples hard and red and puckered.
I moved with him every step of the way, digging my ass into his muscular midsection and trapping his prick deep inside my pussy. I don't think I had ever had better control over my inner muscles that I did that night, rippling them over and over around the shaft of my young lover's probing prick.
I heard all sorts of mysterious sounds outside the tent but that only added to my pleasure, giving the whole scene an air of mystery. All my senses were very alert and it seemed that I could feel every inch of Bruce's thick cock. Still, I wasn't ready to come. I knew it would happen to me sooner or later and that there wasn't a thing in the world to worry about.
Bruce removed his cock all the way from my pussy and then quickly guided it back in with his hand. I could see that he liked it best that way, when he could dig the full length of my inner cunt sleeve. I would have preferred for him to stay inside me longer but I was too hot and bothered to protest.
I stopped moving for awhile, letting my adolescent lover do the work for me. His prick kept up a steady tempo of penetration, hitting bottom at the end of each lunge. My cunt was watering copiously and I knew his thighs and midsection must have been swimming in hot, acrid female come.
Arching my back further, I felt his cock go deeper than ever into my hungry twat. Bruce held my buttocks together with one of his strong hands, forming an extra channel for his cock to penetrate before it glided into my pussy. He was getting really good, finding new ways to delight my tired body.
At that point, I felt I could come at will, let my body go whenever the moment seemed right. Naturally, I delayed my orgasm for as long as possible, knowing that we would probably never make it together again. Still, the incessant pressure of Bruce's cock was impossible to resist for very long.
I felt it happening to me, the orgasm I had awaited and then tried to delay. My body got hot, my muscles stiffened and my cunt began to flutter against the invading prick. I held my breath and closed my eyes, feeling my body go through its familiar paces. There was no point holding back now. I let myself go, knowing right away that it would be a climax to remember.
My cunt contracted one last time and then I could feel the juices leaking out of my overwrought body. I stopped moving and let Bruce fuck me at will, as hard as he wanted. Everything he did seemed to contribute to my raging passion, to the point where I almost passed out from a surfeit of lust.
"I'M COMING, keep fucking me," I pleaded. "That's right, Bruce, darling, give it to me good and hard. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, yeah, sock it to me, fuck me hard. I love to feel your fat cock inside me. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII."
It was one hell of an orgasm all right, and what made it even better was that Bruce came just a few seconds later. I went through my paces and then relaxed for a moment and then he was whaling away at me harder than ever. His prick seemed thicker than it had at first until it finally exploded.
The feel of his come shooting into me was truly sensational. It actually triggered another orgasm on my part, another bath of come pouring out of my pussy. We stayed together long after our passion had faded, with me squeezing my cunt muscles around the rapidly softening prick of my virile young lover.
We lay down together in the sleeping bag after that and it didn't take very long for us to fall asleep. I woke a few times that night but otherwise rested quite comfortably. When I woke for the last time, Bruce was no longer with me, though I could hear him fixing breakfast outside the tent.
We had a pretty nice morning together, sharing a humble meal and exchanging addresses and telephone numbers. I still didn't know if I wanted to see Bruce again but there was no reason to rule it out of the question. He had turned out even better than I had at first expected.
I offered him a ride wherever he wanted to go but Bruce turned me down, saying that he would camp out for another night and then hike back to his home, a good twenty miles away. I couldn't understand that at all but didn't bug him about it. I was tired and grimy and it was time to drive home for a shower.
The drive home was pleasant enough, with very little traffic and the sun a little less pitiless than usual. Two minutes after entering my humble cottage I was into my shower, amazed that a day in the country could have got me so dirty. But it was natural dirt, if there is such a thing, and after the shower I felt good, ready to turn in early and face another week of work. My first sexual experiment had been an unqualified success.
CHAPTER FIVE
The first two days of the next week were full, quiet and uneventful, which was pretty much in keeping with my mood. Although I had had a damned good time with Bruce, I felt kind of funny about what I had done. It was the first time I had been to bed with a man I didn't care about in as long as I could remember.
I didn't feel morally guilty or anything like that, but it was a break in the usual pattern of my life and I figured it would take a while to get used to it. So, I was happy enough spending my days at work and my evenings alone, working on my cottage and doing a lot of reading late at night.
Wednesday, when I drove home from work, I had a sense of foreboding. Something was going to happen to me that night but I had no idea what. As I approached the cottage I saw that there was another car parked in my driveway, a very familiar looking vehicle, though I hadn't seen it in well over a year.
I tried to convince myself that it wasn't Charlie's car, Charlie being my former husband, but it was no go. The black sedan had the same license number, and besides, who the hell else was-likely to visit me out in the middle of the desert. It had to be Charlie, no two ways about it.
I pulled up next to Charlie's car and got out of my own sedan slowly. There he was, sitting on my porch, dressed in the usual business suit, fanning himself with his hat. I painted a smile on my face and gave him a fairly cheerful hello. After that I shut up, figuring it was up to him to do the talking.
We went in together and I got Charlie a cold beer before the start of our conversation. He drank it down quickly enough to show he'd been waiting a good long time in the sun. I got a better look at Charlie and was more or less pleased with the results. He looked better than when I'd left him, healthier, thinner, maybe happier, certainly with a lot more color in his face.
"I have to drive down to Tucson tomorrow," Charlie finally explained, "and thought I'd stop by for a visit. You don't have to put me up or anything. I'm sure there's a hotel somewhere around here and the company's paying for everything, anyway."
"Sure, the Rattlesnake Hilton," I teased Charlie, wondering if he was kidding me. There wasn't a thing but cactus, sand and oil rigs between Delford and Tucson. "You can stay here if you want, but I sure am surprised to see you."
"You're not angry, are you?" Charlie asked, not meaning it. "Margot, how the hell can you live out here? What do you do with yourself, who are your friends, what kind of future do you have?"
It was going to be a long evening, I could see. I brought another round of beers and launched into a carefully censored account of my life since our divorce, letting Charlie know that I was happy enough in a small town, thinking things out and being on my own for the first time since college day.
"What about men," Charlie interrupted. "My God, Margot, you ll die an old maid out here. Couldn't you think your life over someplace closer to civilization?"
"I didn't say I was going to stay here forever," I answered a little too sharply. "And, as far as men are concerned, don't make me hurt your feelings. Let's just drop the subject."
To my surprise, Charlie did just that. Things sure had changed since our divorce. By the fourth beer I was actually enjoying Charlie's company. Maybe he hadn't changed in any other regard, but toward me he was a million times better. Charlie was witty, flattering, easy-going, loose, the complete antithesis of my memories.
We got good and loaded by ten o'clock, by which time I had added a bottle of scotch to the refreshment menu, and we were whooping it up like a couple of coyotes. We were even able to joke about our marriage, about how unsuited we'd been for each other. I began to feel better and better about my ex-husband and pretty soon found out he thought pretty well of me.
When it was time to turn in there was a moment of tension, needless to say. Charlie played it cool, letting me tell him how little room there was, how I had one bed and a couch that wasn't fit even for an ex-husband. He heard me out with an uncharacteristically sexy smile and then he finally spoke.
"What the hell, Margot, just one night for Auld Lang Syne, or whatever the fuck it is. I'll be leaving tomorrow and it won't be an earth-shattering thing for either of us."
If he had tried to be romantic or emotional, I would have been better able to turn Charlie down, but as it was I could hardly mount a perfunctory resistance. In other words, I smiled at Charlie and led him into the bedroom without saying a word. I got out of my clothing as well as a drunk woman can and then flopped onto the bed, not even watching him as he stripped.
A moment of fumbling and stumbling and Charlie was in bed with me. The light was still on and I could see that he was in fine shape, trim and muscular, suntanned from head to toe. I began to feel truly horny for the first time that night, which was a good thing, since he was ready to make his move.
Charlie rolled over on top of me and then kissed me, breathing his beery breath right into my face. He was heavy compared to my young lovers but otherwise I couldn't yet see much of a difference. I parted my lips and let him thrust his tongue in and then the footrace was on. We were ready to make it together.
As soon as we started kissing, I could feel Charlie's prick getting hard against me. I remembered that he wasn't a bad bed-partner, just a man I had tired of. I was excited and aroused, my cunt wet and my nipples taut. It's hard to say if the alcohol added to or detracted from my passion.
In any case, I won't pretend that I was overwhelmed with emotion or anything of the sort. Drunk as I was there were times when I could barely remember who was sharing my bed. Also, I had been through our marriage in my mind and no longer felt much for Charlie, not longing, not resentment, nothing.
Charlie went for my tits at that point, mumbling something about how beautiful I was, more beautiful and gorgeous and sensual than he remembered. His hands closed around my boobs and I felt him working on my nipples, massaging the tender flesh until they were tight and dark and sensitive.
We rolled around on the bed, allowing ourselves free rein with each other's body, groping and grabbing and slowly working up to our first fuck in over a year. Charlie's body was hard and muscular and his prick was stiff as a board. I wrapped my fingers around it and felt a charge of heat pass through me, arousing my own passion all the more.
Then I felt Charlie going for my cunt, covering my bush with his right hand and insinuating his finger between my already dripping labia. He was pretty gentle for somebody that stoned and I really liked having him inside me again. His finger felt thick and quite hot as it slid in and out of me.
We masturbated each other for awhile, all our reactions slowed down by the booze we'd ingested. I was kind of numb but not in any way that bothered me, and I guess Charlie must have been in the same boat. His prick seemed hard and under control, able to keep its thickness and rigidity for as long as I needed it.
Charlie got deeper into my pussy, adding a second finger and really turning me on. I closed my thighs around his wrist and kept him deep inside my snatch, all the while sliding my hand up and down his cock. Foreplay was fun, but I was just about ready for my man to bring out the heavy artillery.
Before he got around to playing with my clitoris, Charlie decided to change things around a bit. He pulled his fingers away from my quim and then reversed his position so that we were lying head to foot on my bed. Then, holding me firmly around the waist, he wedged his head between my tan, sleek thighs.
Having my pussy eaten out was fine with me, especially since I would get Charlie's cock into my mouth at the same time. We bent our bodies until we were curled around each other and then I felt his tongue probing at the entrance of my vulva, covering my labia with a layer of his warm spit.
I didn't waste any further time going for his stiff rod, parting my lips and then closing them around
Charlie's thick, purple glans. He was well-hung, just as I remembered him, almost seven inches long and quite thick as well. I knew my sexual techniques had improved a lot since our divorce and wondered if he had noticed it yet, and what it might mean to him.
Anyway, I sucked Charlie's cock good and hard, taking all but the last inch and a half of it into my mouth. He fit in me nicely, filling me to the throat and not moving at all, so that I could do whatever I wanted to him. Of course, he was eating me out all the while, damned well I might add.
His tongue seemed exceptionally long, probing all the way into the bottom of my fuck canal, reaming me out over and over again. I pressed myself closer to him and covered his balls with my right hand. Now we were really locked together, tangled, sweating, united by a common bond of rapidly mounting lust.
I ran my agile tongue all over Charlie's cock, sucking hard and keeping him hard as a brick. It felt really good to squirm against him and suck more and more of that thick stiff organ into my throat. Drunk as I was, there were moments when I forgot what his tongue was doing inside my twat.
In that way, my passion built up without my noticing it. I concentrated completely on the six and a half inches of cock that were thrusting in and out of my mouth and in the meantime my cunt was dripping wet and contracting around Charlie's tongue, covering his face with a mask of hot pussy juice.
I did notice it when he switched from vulva to clitoris, though, making my whole body stiffen as I shifted into high gear. At that point I had just about managed to swallow all of Charlie's rod and was keeping it motionless in my throat. His tongue swished slowly over my clit and it drove me wild, made me redouble my efforts to get Charlie to shoot in my mouth.
I wanted his come, all his come, and I wanted it shot deep into me so I could taste every drop of it. I wasn't so drunk any more and my emotions were beginning to get the better of me. Not that I was having second thoughts about spending the night with Charlie. I was too hot and bothered for that.
No, I suddenly realized, in the midst of my rising passion, that I was with my former husband, a man who had guided my life for better or worse for ten years. Making it with him was something that couldn't be taken lightly, even though it had happened almost as an accident.
Strange to tell, that didn't detract an iota from my pleasure. I let part of Charlie's cock out of my mouth and concentrated on its thick, spongy head, sloshing my tongue over it and biting into it gently with my front teeth. I knew I was going to come in a few seconds and wanted Charlie to come with me.
It didn't turn out that way, though. Charlie had pulled out all stops and was eating me out in a way that left nothing to be desired. His finger was inside my cunt, inserted all the way up to the knuckle, and his tongue was tormenting my clitoris. Once I could feel another finger playing around in the vicinity of my ass-hole I knew that I was a goner.
"CHARLIE, CHARLIE, YOU'RE DOING IT TO ME," I heard myself screaming as the spasms began. His prick had slid out of my mouth but I could feel it slapping rhythmically against my cheek. "Yes, keep eating me out. EAT ME OUT, CHARLIE, that's it, use your tongue! I'm COMMMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!"
It was one hell of an orgasm for me, a series of contractions that left me weak and shaking. I could feel the juices pouring out of me and onto Charlie's face, into his mouth and nostrils. He didn't complain or slow down for a second though, as if he couldn't get enough of my bubbling cunt honey.
It was a quick, strong, intense orgasm, just a single spasm that rippled through my cunt and then ceased abruptly. It felt nice though, incredibly good and satisfying. All my tension and doubt seemed to evaporate. I was comfortable with Charlie again, even though I was no longer drunk.
Without wasting any time at all, I took Charlie's prick back into my mouth. I was breathing hard after my orgasm but knew I could handle him all right. He kept his tongue in tiie area of my snatch for the next few moments but it didn't really turn me on, just kept me happy and relaxed and contented.
I could tell right off the bat that it wouldn't be long before Charlie would fire his wad into my waiting mouth. He was stiffer than ever and the tip of his cock had turned almost black with its bloat of throbbing blood. It was hard to fit the huge thing into my mouth, but I gaped my lips wide and soon had my tongue back in action, driving Charlie to a new peak of lust.
He fucked my mouth good and hard, leaning his body against me and thrusting that big cock deep into my throat. Each stroke was longer and more insistent than its predecessor and then he stopped short. His prick rested against my lower teeth and I could feel it contract all along its underside.
Another second passed and then I got what I wanted, a gigantic dollop of hot, lathering come pouring into my mouth. The stuff was so thick and copious that I could hardly swallow it, and it didn't remind me at all of Charlie's come from the past. That sounds silly, I know, but I actually thought it at the time.
I gulped Charlie's semen down, rolling it around in my mouth and really loving the sharp, salty taste. As soon as most of the jism was down my throat, I licked Charlie's cock clean, even as it was wilting away from me. I just didn't want to give it up after we had had such a good fucking time together.
"Too bad it couldn't have been like that when we were married," Charlie whispered a few seconds later. "You were incredible, sensual, womanly. What happened to you, darling?"
"I'll try to take that as a compliment," I answered, still pleased with Charlie. "But you know why sex wasn't any good between us when we were married. It was good now because we were equal, but back then everything we did we did your way."
"That's true but it wasn't all my fault," Charlie corrected me justly enough. "You never rebelled, never wanted to be anything but a submissive housewife. Only at the end, when you sprung that divorce on me, then I knew what was bothering you."
"What of it?" I asked him. "All you're telling me is that we made the same mistakes a million couples make. I guess we should congratulate ourselves on getting out while we're still reasonably young, having a chance to make something of ourselves."
"But you haven't really been happy this way," Charlie told me, speaking softly. "I can tell that. And I haven't been overjoyed with bachelor life either, it hasn't been a picnic."
"Cut it out, Charlie," I warned him. "Don't talk about it, don't even think about it. We can't get back together and the less we know about each other the better. Okay?"
I don't think Charlie agreed with me but he was so surprised by the dry, matter-of-fact way I was talking to him that he shut up like a clam. We weren't uncomfortable after that, though; in fact, the evening progressed quite well. Whatever I had said seemed to arouse Charlie's virility all over again.
Charlie took me in his arms and squeezed me very tightly, showing strength I'd forgotten about. I could hardly breathe in his embrace but it didn't last too long. Soon he was kissing me again, forcing his thick tongue deep into my mouth, climbing on top of me with a tense, hard body.
That was fine with me, since we hadn't yet fucked and I certainly wanted to do that with my ex-husband. It really was amazing how well things were going, how we hadn't argued even when things had got personal. I was turned on all over again and could hardly wait for Charlie to start fucking me.
He did it pretty quickly, plunging his finger into my twat, cupping the other hand under my ass and burying his face in my chest so that he could suck my nipples. There wasn't much room for me to go into action but I managed to locate his cock and bring him the rest of the way to erection.
Neither of us wanted or needed much foreplay. I was dripping wet from having his tongue in my pussy and Charlie had recovered his erection as quickly as any young man. I could feel his rod moving closer and closer to my pussy and was ready to let him enter me,' when Charlie sprung another surprise.
"You get on top this time," he insisted. "Go ahead, we never fucked that way when we were married, not once. Really, Margot, just try it for a minute, you've got nothing to lose."
"Okay, honey," I answered. "I don't know what you're trying to prove but it can't work out too bad. Go on, roll over, don't just sit there pointing that thing at me."
Charlie lay flat on his back and then I got on top of him, straddling his hips with my thighs. I sank my weight down until I was comfortable and then I took his prick in hand, massaging it for a moment against my stomach and outer labia, getting used to the feel of that stiff, hot organ.
Then I lifted myself up a few inches, just enough to bend his prick down and point its glans into the opening of my vulva. I had fucked Peter like that a few times, but never for very long, and I wasn't too sure of myself. Still, Charlie wanted it that way and I wanted it, too, for whatever reason.
The obvious thing to say would be that it was a way of redressing past wrongs, letting me be on top for once, literally and figuratively. But that's too simple an explanation. It's right but doesn't go far enough. Even now I don't understand everything that happened between us that night, and at the time it was all a mystery wrapped up in an enigma.
Charlie's prick fit easily into my cunt, sloshing through the wetness and getting about halfway into me. I kept my body raised a little until I got used to him, until I started to like penetration at that unfamiliar angle. Then I squeezed my cunt around his upward pointing shaft, getting things moving at last.
Charlie sighed with satisfaction as I began to work on his cock, showing that he really had changed. It was incredible to see him enjoying sex, relaxing, digging the little subtleties. He was going to let me work out at my own pace, at least for awhile, until his passion got the better of him.
Once my body had been lowered completely I was able to have a good time with Charlie's rod. It was a nice position, allowing incredibly deep penetration. Best of all, as I keep saying, I was in control of things, moving as I wished, serving my own passion and keeping Charlie hot and bothered.
I bounced slowly up and down on his cock, still rippling my cunt muscles around that shaft of gnarled muscled and throbbing veins. Charlie thrust his hips up a little and drove his prick in even deeper, hitting my bottom, bumping up against my womb. We moved very slowly for the next few minutes and I can truly say it was the best fuck we'd had in ten years of trying.
Charlie reached up and started playing with my tits, which was all I needed to really get myself moving. I was used to his cock now, knew just how much to let out of me before banging down again on top of it. It was hard work for a woman but I did it gladly, loving every minute of it.
I looked down at Charlie's prick and saw that it had lost none of its stiffness and rigidity. No, it pointed straight up into my twat, thicker at the base than the head. I slowed down a little at that point, not wanting either of us to come yet but also not wanting to lessen our passion and pleasure.
We really got into it together at that point, Charlie moving his prick upward and me tightening my cunt muscles around that heavily muscled shaft. That was really nice. It calmed us down for a few minutes, let us control ourselves before getting into the final phase of our lovemaking.
But I couldn't take it easy for ever, needless to say. I began to move again on top of Charlie, swaying my body to either side and grinding my ass down onto his hard midsection. He got into it too, thrusting up harder, deep delving strokes, each of which brought me that much closer to orgasm.
Actually, I wouldn't have minded changing positions at that stage, letting Charlie get on top of me, but it was too late for any alterations in the routine. I knew I was pretty close to a climax and figured Charlie couldn't be too far behind. I didn't want to break the spell, do anything differently.
A few minutes later I was holding on for dear life as my ex-husband whaled his prick into me. He seemed incredibly strong, actually lifting me off his body at the tail end of each potent stroke. I like that just fine, especially since I had not stopped moving for a second, myself.
It could have gone on like that forever as far as I was concerned and it did last pretty long. We got into all sorts of different movements, playing off each other with subtle counter-rhythms that aroused our passion even further. Charlie, as I've said before, had never fucked me so well. I continued to be amazed by his potency and virility.
Pretty soon I knew I was going to come, that I couldn't hold it back much longer. My cunt was on fire, still full to the brim with Charlie's plunging cock. I stopped moving, or slowed down anyway, and then it started to happen to me. My cunt tightened around Charlie's prick for the last time.
Charlie kept fucking me hard and fast as my climax began and I could see that he was smiling up at me, justly proud of the way he had turned me on. I closed my eyes and let myself go, feeling the fluids leaking out of my cunt. I was there, coming, shooting my wad, finally over the verge.
"YES, YES, YES, I'M COMING!" I screamed. "Keep fucking me, Charlie, please keep fucking me! I need you, I need your COCK! That's it, baby, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
It was a really good orgasm for me, every bit as pleasant as the one Charlie had given me with his fingers and tongue. I came and then came again and finally my passion started to abate. All the while, Charlie's prick stayed motionless in my cunt, almost strangulated by my vaginal contractions.
Charlie began fucking me again and a few seconds later he was ready to join me. One last upward stroke and his juices were mingling with mine, rocketing way up into the back end of my cunt. It soothed my irritated tissues and made me very proud of myself, proud of the way I had pleased my former spouse.
Afterward we lay together for an hour, hardly saying a word to each other. It was quite late and both of us had things to do the next morning, though I can't say either of us was especially sleepy. We fell out eventually and then woke together at dawn, at which point Charlie talked to me again.
"I want to see you again, Margot," he insisted. "No, don't interrupt me, I'm not trying to trap you. No strings attached. Just think it over, you don't have to decide right now."
"It doesn't make any sense, Charlie," I insisted. "We're through with each other now, we can't go back. You don't even want to, you're just being emotional. Let's just remember this night and leave it that way. All right?"
"But you can't say this night didn't mean anything to you," Charlie rejoined. "I'm not blind, I can see what goes on in your head. Look, Margot, I'll call you on my way back from Tucson and maybe you'll have changed your mind by then."
"Don't count on it," I warned him.
But I couldn't deny that Charlie was at least partly right. It had been far and away the best night we'd ever spent together and there was no way I could deny having some desire to repeat it. It was just that I didn't want to get involved with Charlie again, not when I was just starting my new life. I was a confused woman at work that day, inattentive and nasty to the customers who kept interrupting my train of thought.
CHAPTER SIX
Charlie telephoned me a week after our night together and I think that he was almost relieved when I declined his offer to pay me a second visit. It had been an emotionally wrenching experience for us to have made love again and' evidently Charlie shared my opinion that we should cool things for awhile.
He did insist on keeping in touch with me, by telephone if not in person, and I went along with him on that. I was fonder of Charlie than I had been during our marriage and it was good to have him in the background. He provided a sense of continuity in my life, a base from which to find new experiences.
The main thing that Charlie's visit had done for me was cast doubt on my trend, my tendency to find younger lovers. After all, we had had a pretty good night together. Sexually there was nothing to complain about. Therefore, it was possible that I had appreciated Bruce and Peter for their novelty rather than their youth.
There was, of course, only one way to find out how hung up I was on younger lovers, pubescent boys like Peter Bloy. I had to make it with another mature man; the older the better. I had determined to stay away from men in Delford, but it so happened that I had another candidate ready at hand.
Thus it was that the following Saturday I found myself standing naked on the patio of Roger Wilkinson's elaborate split-level house. Roger was a fairly successful artist who lived in the middle of the desert, a good forty miles from civilization. I had visited his studio once and bought one of his paintings and had even accepted his offer to come out and visit him, but in the midst of the excitement and turmoil of my life had forgotten him completely.
During the week, I called Roger and asked if his offer still stood. He had replied in the affirmative, telling me to drive out early Saturday morning while the light was especially good. It was only after I had been there for an hour that he had sprung his little surprise, asking me to pose for a nude painting.
Roger had made the offer in all innocence, with perfect bonafides, but he was playing right into my hands. I had decided to seduce him and it figured to be pretty easy on those terms. I figured that Roger had found me attractive enough clothed and would consider me irresistible in the buff.
Also, I had done a little live modeling in college and wasn't at all squeamish about being seen naked by an artist. To make a long story short, I posed for a good two hours and then Roger and I sat down together on the patio, he in shorts and sandals, I wrapping my naked body in one of his bathrobes.
We had a pretty nice chat and I came to like Roger more and more. First of all, he was extremely attractive in a purely physical sense. A man of fifty-five or so, he had a shock of white hair, a craggy, early-American face and a tall, powerful body that could have served as a model for one of his sculptures.
Roger was a good conversationalist, a man who had been all over the world. As we sipped sherry together I was able to open up to the man, to tell him something about my recent adventures, including the night I had spent with Charlie. Naturally, I didn't mention my intention of seducing him, but it took very little time for Roger to figure it out for himself.
"I agree with your basic point, that you have to go out and live as if you were a teenager," he told me. "You consider the first forty years of your life wasted and I can't argue that point, though I find it dubious. It does sound rather extreme."
"Maybe so," I concurred, "But the point is that I do feel young again when I'm with Peter. It's like starting all over again, turning back the clock, whatever cliche you want. Only Charlie confused the whole issue. Now I don't know what I'm looking for."
"A pattern, I'd say," Roger interrupted. "You feel that you let life pass you by and now you want to see order, movement, tendencies in your actions. It's an interesting question, whether the patterns are there to be discovered or whether we impose them on our actions, interpret our experiences in an ordered manner."
Roger really talked like that. Despite his good looks and dedication to the world of the senses, he seemed to view life from a different plateau. He took a long-range, objective, analytical approach to life that I found myself envying. By then I was as taken with his mentality as his physical appeal.
"I know what you want, Margot," he told me after a lull in our conversation. "I don't know if it's a good idea but I can't deny wanting you. You're a beautiful woman and there's a radiance about you that I'll never be able to capture in a painting."
It was one hell of a way to come on to a woman but it was good enough for yours truly. Roger and I were, at that moment, reclining on a Turkish carpet that covered much of his patio. He leaned toward me and then I felt his thick, hairy arm over my shoulders, gently pulling the loose robe from my body and making me naked again.
I was certainly ready to make it with Roger by that point. It had been quite a narcissistic experience to parade naked for him for two hours and I had taken his compliments to heart, though they were mostly of a technical, artistic nature.
Now that we were starting to put it together sexually, I liked him better than ever, sensed that things were going to work out well between us.
"I can't promise to be as virile as your young lovers," Roger whispered just before kissing me. "It's ironic, though, that there's as much a disparity in our ages. I mean, I haven't been with as young a woman as yourself in years. I wonder if I'll feel the same things you've described. Interesting, isn't it?"
I let that one go by, realizing that it could have led to an hour of fascinating but frustrating verbal analysis. Instead, I moved a little closer to Roger and stopped his words with my lips, inhaling deeply of the odor of his sundarkened taut skin. Roger was a true denizen of the desert, at home in the blazing heat, as comfortable as a lizard in that inhospitable climate.
He kissed me very strongly, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth and practically crushing me in his strong artist's hands. The patio was a nice place to be, screened in and shaded, giving a view of the paintings inside his studio and the huge sandstone sculptures that seemed to guard his property.
Roger got out of his clothing, an easy enough task considering how little he was wearing, and then we really got into it together, reclining full length on that carpet and giving our bodies free rein. We were comfortable together from the first caress, something unique in my experience. Roger was really the first man I had ever trusted, a kindred spirit or whatever you want to call it.
He rolled over on top of me and caressed my tits with huge, calloused palms, tickling me and turning me on simultaneously. I satisfied myself with remaining passive at first, wanting things to be the exact opposite of my love experiences with Peter and Bruce. Roger understood and acted his role to perfection.
I felt like a little girl, again, in the sensitive hands of an expert, a master, a truly gifted mature man. My nipples hardened instantly under his ministrations, tightening against my breasts and sending a wave of heat through my aroused body. I could feel Roger's prick hard against me but couldn't see it in our current position.
Roger didn't do anything terribly differently from other men, but he was very sure of himself, relaxed and calm. I liked the way he seduced me, exploring every inch of my body with his trained hands, tracing my curves over and again. It felt like he was molding my flesh, looking at me from different angles, and in the process doing a damned good job of getting me hot and bothered.
Things got really good for me when Roger went for my cunt. His hand slid along my belly and I was shivering with anticipation by the time he touched my twat. His fingers were hard and strong but quite gentle as they parted my labia and stroked my black pubic tresses. Still, he was making love to me slowly.
Roger inserted one finger into my twat, spreading the moisture that already had begun to leak from my vulva. I kept my legs spread wide to accommodate him and rubbed my tits against his hard, white-haired chest. Once his finger was all the way inside my body I reached for his cock, wanting to get in on the fun.
In the position we had assumed it wasn't easy for me to locate my new lover's prick but I did it nonetheless. My arm stretched out and I touched his balls, heavy sacs, full of hot come. Then I moved my fingers up a little and got his prick, which as expected was already in a state of full erection.
I wrapped my fingers around the big thing and tried to gauge its size. I could tell that Roger was well hung, his prick thick, hard and lined with prominent veins. I massaged it slowly and gently, still very much aware of the finger that was in my cunt. I wanted him to fuck me then and there but Roger continued to take his time, refusing to be hurried.
He finger-fucked me beautifully, to the point where it was almost as good as having a prick inside my burning pussy. I concentrated on his pleasure though, figuring that he'd fuck me sooner if I made things really good for him. By that point I had quite a bit of confidence in my ability to arouse a man.
I closed my fingers just under the head of Roger's prick and squeezed tightly, pulling the collar back and forth and then switching my attention to the head itself, a tumid sphere, dark and red and sensitive to my touch. Roger was breathing hard and I could see he was ready to turn the trick.
He played with my clitoris for a moment, rubbing his thumb against that most sensitive part of my genital apparatus, causing me to moan aloud with unsated passion. For a man who lived alone, he seemed quite familiar with sex and I wondered how many other women had paid private visits to his studio.
Not that I was jealous. That was the last thing in my mind. I had come out there to fuck Roger and although we had become friends in the interim, all I really wanted from him was sex. When my clitoris was fully extended, hard and red and protuberant, he stopped working on it and prepared to plank me.
I closed my eyes and let him have his way with me, knowing already that we were going to fuck well together. I felt his prick hammering at the gate of my pussy, bending slightly as he tried to force it into me. It was a tight fit but I was dripping wet and was able to take him in without difficulty.
Then things got really good for both of us. Roger's prick slid in one inch at a time, showing that he was still in control of his lust. Un-like my young lovers, he was trying to slow things down, make our bout of lovemaking a work of art, controlled and conscious. It was quite a change for me and for the next few minutes I wasn't altogether sure that I liked it.
Once Roger's prick was all the way inside me things improved. The huge thing filled me to capacity and I could feel him in every inch of my sensitive pussy walls. My membranes were stretched and sensitive and my clitoris remained aroused as it rubbed continuously against Roger's tangled, gray pubic hair.
He pulled his prick out a few inches and then put it right back into me. I felt my cunt closing down around that burning spear and then I started to move with Roger, grinding my ass into the scratchy carpet beneath me and creating more pressure and friction inside the depths of my hungry twat.
Roger picked up the pace a little, fucking me harder and faster, the way I liked to be taken. His balls slapped up against my ass and all his weight seemed to come down on my chest and midsection, pinning me to the carpet. His strokes were quite regular, as if he were pacing himself, getting ready at his own tempo.
I twisted and writhed beneath my older lover, feeling good now, knowing that he'd bring me to orgasm sooner or later. For the moment I had forgotten everything but the immediate physical sensation of having a thick cock pounding in and out of my body. I opened my eyes again and then wrapped my arms around Roger's broad back, wanting to keep him very close to me.
He cupped his hands under my ass and then I could feel his powerful fingers digging into my buttocks, massaging my flesh and making my cunt tighter around his probing prick. My tits were squashed almost flat under his heavy chest but that too added to the pleasure I was starting to feel.
I stretched my arm out again and again managed to find Roger's balls. Cupping them gently, I milked the soft, vulnerable globes, feeling the flesh yield to my touch. I couldn't move much in that position but there was plenty of time for motion later. For now, we were still in the preliminary stages of fucking.
As I've indicated, it was a long, slow, unhurried session of fucking. Roger was very considerate of my passion, never letting his own lust get out of hand and making sure that I was a few steps ahead of him. His body was sweating and he was breathing hard but he still had complete control over himself.
One of Roger's fingers slid into my ass-hole, which was wet and slippery from the juices pouring out of my cunt. I was used to anal penetration and found that it turned me on all the more. He was doing a fine job on me, playing me like an instrument, and pretty soon I was going to reward him with an orgasm.
I left my arms at my sides and again moved with my lover, feeling myself coming closer to the point of ecstatic release. I dug my ass into that carpet and swiveled my hips rapidly, trapping his prick deep inside me. Roger moved faster, too, banging his cock into me, hitting bottom with each potent thrust.
Then it started to happen to me, the orgasm I had hoped for. My whole body went stiff and I felt burning hot, as if we were fucking in direct sunlight. My cunt muscles began to flutter around
Roger's probing prick and then my climax began, slowly at first, then building to a real crescendo of lust.
"I'M COMING, ROGER, I'M COMING," I shouted, closing my legs tighter around his thick midsection. YES, YES, KEEP FUCKING ME. Mmmmmm, that feels so good, it's so fucking big. Yes, yes, put it into me. AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!! ! "
It was one hell of an orgasm for me, a series of contractions that seemed to go on forever. I moved the whole time, sliding my cunt up and down on Roger's barely moving prick, trying to wrench the huge thing right off his body. My cunt was working overtime, pouring its juices out and soaking both our bodies with a stream of hot, bubbling, saline pussy secretions.
My orgasm faded slowly, allowing me to enjoy it to the fullest possible extent. I stopped moving and tried to catch my breath, basking in the last moments of sexual pleasure. I was still aware of Roger's presence, of course, could still feel his rock-hard cock sliding slowly in and out of my snatch.
Seeing that I had come, Roger began to fuck me more for his own pleasure. His prick moved faster and he twisted his hips as he fucked me, entering me that much more deeply. Wet as I was, he couldn't have felt too much but he seemed to like it well enough. His finger was deep in my ass-hole and he had me pressed against his body as if he wanted to graft our skins together.
I did everything I could do to make things better for him. My cunt tightened around his prick and I rubbed my tits incessantly against Roger's chest. My legs were locked around his ass again but that didn't slow him down a bit. I could see that he didn't need much more to get himself over the verge.
A few moments later I knew he was fucking me for real, getting ready to fire his salvo deep into my waiting pussy. His strokes came hard and fast, practically knocking the breath out of my body. Roger was certainly the most powerful man I'd ever fucked and now that his passion was aroused was no longer treating me gently.
No, his prick slammed into me over and over again, giving me not an instant of rest. My cunt was beginning to go dry but I knew that it would all be over soon. I held him tightly, letting the aftershock of his powerful strokes quiver through my body and feeling his prick get harder and thicker inside me.
He came a few seconds later, slamming his cock in for the last time and then keeping it buried inside me. The underside of his prick rippled and contracted and then the flow was let loose. It felt like a tidal wave of come was washing into my pussy, shooting back to the entrance of my womb and then leaking slowly out again, dripping all over my labia and groin.
Roger came twice as nearly as I can tell. He left his prick inside me after he had gone all the way, until at last it started to go soft. He pulled out of me and I could see a puddle of come and pussy juice forming on the rug between my thighs. Between come and sweat, the two of us were practically drowning.
"So, what's the answer?" Roger asked me when we were lying side my side. "Was it all right or are you going to swear off older men? You seemed to enjoy yourself, Margot."
"It was good, better than I expected," I answered honestly enough. "But I don't know, it didn't seem to prove anything one way or the other. It was different, not better or worse. I guess I'll have to think it over for a while."
"You can do that," Roger concurred, "but I doubt you'll come up with an answer, certainly nothing definitive and satisfying. It's like what I was telling you before. There is no pattern in life except what we choose to impose on it. Every experience has its own logic and it's often hard to connect them."
"I suppose so," I answered, feeling confused but not at all unhappy. "I guess the answer is that I won't give up experimenting. What else can I do?"
Roger talked to me some more, giving me very little chance to reply or interrupt. It was more of the same. He was trying to allay my various fears and calm me down, show me that I was taking things too seriously. It wasn't so much what he said as his tone of voice that did the job. He seemed so wise, so experienced, even though he insisted that I had to find things out on my own.
Tired of talking, I figured we might as well fuck again. It was getting late and I had a long drive home. I could have asked to stay for the night but that would have represented an invasion of Roger's privacy. He liked me well enough but he had patterns of his own, patterns of privacy and solitude.
I reached out for Roger's prick and played with it for a few seconds, figuring that he'd take the hint sooner or later. It was fun to weigh that thick wet scepter in my palm, work on it until it started to get hard again. Only Roger didn't really seem into it, as if he had had enough fucking for one day.
He never said that in so many words but his actions made it clear shortly thereafter. Roger pushed my hand away from his stiffening prick and then rolled over on top of me, sliding his body down along mine until his head was level with my crotch. I could see that he wanted to eat me out and that was an offer that I was not about to refuse or question.
I figured that a man of his age and experience would know just what to do in a situation like that and I. was not mistaken. Roger protruded his tongue from his mouth and a second later it was pressed against my pubic opening, a thick, pink organ that added to the copious flow of my vaginal discharges.
Once again he took his time about turning me on, working slowly and with consummate self-confidence. His tongue played around my labia, sliding up and down my slit, getting me excited at a slow and stately pace. It took a good two minutes before he actually entered the citadel of my hungry vulva.
He doubled his tongue over as it entered me, so that it was almost as thick as his cock. He couldn't penetrate very deeply that way but he didn't have to. I was still aroused from our first fuck and now I was off and flying again, digging every stroke of his long, knowing, agile tongue.
I closed my legs tight around his neck, which must have made it hard for Roger to breath. He was holding me by the hips at that point, not letting me move at all, wanting, I suppose, to serve me like a slave. I appreciated the thought but I liked the actual physical feel of his tongue a thousand times better.
His tongue straightened out inside me and that made things even better. He was penetrating me deeply and his nose occasionally touched my clitoris, sending little seismic waves of lust through my entire body. I threw my head back on the rug and waited, knowing that I would celebrate my orgasm in record time.
Roger reamed my cunt for the next few moments, evidently loving his work. I could hear the loud wet sounds that he made on entering me and soon I could smell my own secretions mixed with the odor of sweat and his come. My skin was flushed with passion and my body was incredibly sensitive and receptive.
He pulled his tongue out of my vulva and went to work on my clitoris, which was just what I needed to get myself moving for real. I had forgotten my confusion completely by that point, could think of nothing but what he was doing to me, to my burning twat. My clitoris was already stiff and extended but it seemed to grow larger than ever under the strokes of his talented tongue.
Roger used just the tip of his tongue on my clitty at first, letting me squirm beneath him. I held my hand against his neck, although he obviously had no intention of pulling away from me. He must have attacked my clitoris from a thousand different angles and each one turned me on all the more.
I lifted my ass off the carpet and pushed my cunt into his face, wanting stronger medicine to get me off. Roger bit into my clitty once and then licked it up and down, putting on the pressure, evidently knowing that the battle was almost won. I couldn't see him but knew he was enjoying the experience.
He used his fingers on my cunt and ass-hole but now all sensation was localized in my clitoris. The tiny organ was hard, swollen and bright red, reaching out to meet the point of his tongue. I was panting heavily by that point and could hardly see what with the sweat that kept pouring into my eyes.
But Roger's head continued to bob up and down over my pussy and his tongue didn't leave my clitty alone for a second. I felt myself getting hotter and hotter and knew that I was going to come soon. There was nothing slow and steady about the way he was eating me, in stark contrast to the way we'd fucked. Now that it was just a matter of my pleasure, Roger was giving me a real ride, not letting my passion cool down for a second.
He alternated strokes between cunt and clitty, delving deep into my vulva and then working on my swollen pleasure-pill until I couldn't hold back any longer. My legs tightened around his head and then my cunt began to produce its fluids and then I was coming for the second time that afternoon.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, yes, do it to my clit," I begged him. "I'm almost there, don't stop, don't let me down. YES, YES, YES, FUCK ME WITH YOUR TONGUE. Shove it into me, all the way in. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!"
It was another really good orgasm for me, not quite as shattering as the first but certainly nothing to complain about. Roger kept his head in position the whole while, licking up my juices and evidently relishing the salty taste. I could feel his tongue still working even after my passion had abated.
We got dressed a few minutes later and I could tell that Roger wanted me to leave pretty soon. With another man I might have felt suspicious or rejected, but in his case I knew there was no cause for suspicion. The man was a lone wolf and didn't want me for the night, no matter how much he liked me.
We talked a little more, going over the same ground, in other words talking about me and my problems and my various sexual adventures. Roger was as good a listener as a talker and it really did feel good to have someone to confide in. Before I left, he made me promise to keep in touch. If I couldn't visit him, I could at least telephone and keep him posted on my doings.
I kissed Roger good-bye and then drove home, in a very good mood despite the fact that things were no more clear in my life than they had been the day before. Still, I had made a friend, the first in years, and that represented a pretty good days' work.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I spent much of the next week comparing my recent experiences. Since the departure of my young lover, Peter Bloy, I had made it with Bruce Moore, another teenager, my former husband, and Roger Wilkinson, a man fifteen years older than myself. Quite a varied crew, all in all, a little bit of everything.
Each act of sexual union had been good, I used that as a starting point. But, thinking things over, I soon admitted to myself that Charlie and Roger had not really done much for me. I had enjoyed fucking them but not nearly as much as fucking Bruce and Peter, my virile, handsome young studs.
The conclusion was obvious. Although there was no reason to avoid mature men, my true interests lay with adolescent boys. Young men made my blood burn, turned me on, made me feel young and sensual. I had proved that by experience and eventually I would be able to explain it to myself intellectually.
That being the case, what I had to do was find another young lover during Peter's prolonged absence. It was funny the way I was able to divide things and compartmentalize my life. I loved Peter, really cared about him, but sexually he could be replaced, or at least I could experiment in that direction.
I still faced my original problem, that of finding eligible young men to lure into my bed. Delford had its share of attractive adolescent males and there were probably several who had been lusting secretly after me for months, but I just wasn't prepared to take the chance of fouling my nest, fooling around too close to home.
By the end of that work week I was feeling restive, to state the case mildly. I was horny on a purely physical level, but my spirit was equally hungry for sustenance. I wanted to meet another boy, get involved with him, share our experiences, only I didn't know how the hell to satisfy my needs.
That Saturday morning I decided to take yet another drive in the country, this time with no special destination at all. I could have gone back to Roger's studio or tried my luck at the park where I'd met Bruce, but instead I was just going to cast my fate to the winds. I intended to drive along aimlessly, obeying any directional impulses until something or other came my way.
After an hour or so of bumping along dusty back roads, I turned the car onto a main highway, a road that ran west toward southern California. I was driving about sixty with the windows open and the radio playing at full volume. I wasn't depressed any more but had a feeling something would happen to me soon.
A hitch-hiker was standing forlornly beside the road and before making a conscious decision I found myself screeching over to the shoulder, a good two hundred yards past him. The man picked up an army knapsack and raced up to me, losing his hat once and reaching me flushed and out of breath.
He threw his pack into the back seat and then slammed the front door behind him. I got my first good look at a tall, slender, sunburned kid who could have been anywhere from fourteen to twenty. His hair came well down over his shoulders and his upper lip bore traces of a straggly mustache. I couldn't see his eyes behind the dark blue sunglasses he was wearing.
It took a few minutes for my passenger to catch his breath, helped along by a canteen of iced tea I proffered. He started by asking the usual questions: where I was going, how far I could take him, was it any easier to get rides further west. I held the car at sixty and answered him in monosyllables.
I didn't like the looks of my passenger, Eddie Malcolm, especially. He was grubby and ill-dressed but there was still something vain and self-satisfied about him. Also, he used every hippy cliche in the book. A living stereotype, I told myself, a pain in the ass kid out to find "real life" on the road.
Still, Eddie managed to charm me fairly quickly. He dropped his argot and showed me how excited he was to be on his own, having left home after the end of the school year. Nobody knew where he was or where he was headed, including himself. None of his experiences so far had been negative enough to shake his good feelings.
With the shades off, Eddie unveiled a remarkably handsome young face, dark-eyed, suntanned, smooth-cheeked and set off with a broad healthy smile. I offered him a cigarette and he laughed, asking me if I wanted to try one of his. As soon as I saw it, I knew that he was giving me a chance to try marijuana.
I had seen the stuff before but had never tested its effects and this seemed a perfect time to rectify that omission. I took the smoldering joint from Eddie and inhaled deeply, finding it milder than tobacco, with an acrid herbal bouquet. It made my mouth and nasal passages dry and otherwise I felt unaffected.
After the second joint I knew I was high. I slowed the car down and had a little trouble focusing my eyes. My concentration wandered and I got quite introspective, finding all sorts of new levels of meaning in my everyday thoughts. Eddie suggested that I pull over somewhere and let myself get comfortable.
We were truly in the back of beyond by then and a turn off the highway brought us smack into the desert. I pulled off and then got out, watching Eddie spread a canvas tarp on the shady side of the car. He plumped down, took a long drink of iced tea and then crooked his finger, signaling me to join him.
Well, I liked the grass and I liked Eddie and I didn't at all mind being alone with him on the desert. It was disappointing not to have hallucinations and the like, but the grass made me happy, light and aware of my body. Eddie seemed happy too, as well he might after standing beside the road for hours and then finding himself alone with a good-looking stoned woman.
He kissed me in a rather friendly manner and then we laughed awhile and then he kissed me for real, pressing his mouth against mine and forcing his tongue between my lips. Once again I was about to make it with a young man in the wilderness. Maybe a pattern was forming in my life after all.
I responded immediately to Eddie's kiss but felt kind of numb, physically and mentally. I attributed that to the grass and didn't let it bother me, knowing that when we got down to the real thing I would react as I always did. I felt Eddie fumbling with my blouse and pushed his hand away, wanting to undress myself.
I did it standing up, giggling and putting on a show for him. It must have looked pretty funny at that: a grown woman doing a clumsy striptease next to her car, her only audience a footloose little hippy. But I got naked pretty quickly and then Eddie got out of his ragged clothing and we were ready to fly.
Eddie was pretty aggressive for a boy his age. I had him figured for a high-school runaway but he had obviously been with women before. Just the way he went for my tits when we were kissing again showed me he knew where things were at. His touch was gentle and unhurried like that of a mature man.
He was passionate enough, though, as I found out in short order. Eddie plunged his tongue into my mouth and I could feel his naked body trembling against me. His prick touched my side and it was hard already, stiff and thick. Best of all were his hands, working unhurriedly on my tits, pinching and twisting my nipples until they were tight against my breasts.
I got hold of his prick and worked on it delightedly, like a little girl with a new toy. We weren't doing anything unusual but with the grass in my system it all seemed to be happening in a different way. However, he got hard as a rock as I worked him over, showing that he was more used to the grass than I.
Actually, for the next hour or so I forgot all about the grass we'd put away together, concentrating completely on sex. I let Eddie work on my tits and was expecially delighted when he used his mouth, sucking my nipples vigorously, covering most of my breasts with a film of his warm, thick saliva.
All the while I kept working on my young lover's prick, sliding my right hand up and down the stiff shaft, moving it faster and faster as I brought Eddie to a state of arousal. I could hear him breathing hard and I guess I too was panting a little. It was hot as hell that afternoon but neither of us seemed to care.
I liked Eddie's body a lot, not just his prick but his whole musculature. He was tall and slender and brown with a good deal of lithe power in that young body. He seemed pleased enough with me and pretty soon he stopped sucking my nipples, which had hardened up and got taut under his insistent ministrations.
His hand slid down along my body, covering every inch of my skin as he wended his way toward my waiting pussy. I was good and turned on by that point but felt calm at the same time, as if we had all the time in the world. Eddie was a perfect lover so far, young and handsome, but also quite mature and experienced.
Things got really good for me when he reached my pussy. I felt his long fingers playing with my pubic tresses and then the tip of his index finger was inside me, pushing my wet labia apart and easing into my vulva. I let out a little cry of lust and that set him going, caused him to enter me more deeply. His cock, in the interim, had somehow slid away from my grasping hand.
I lay flat on my back, letting Eddie climb on top of me with his finger fully inserted into my cunt. He rotated it around inside me and my juices began to flow more heavily, drenching the handsome lad to the wrist. I looked at Eddie and saw that he was smiling, a lazy, dreamy grin of complete satisfaction.
We were both smiling at that, happy to be making it together under such strange circumstances. There I was, out in the middle of the desert, reclining on a filthy canvas tarp with a devastatingly handsome teenage boy lying atop my body. I knew that it wouldn't be long before he was ready to prong me.
Eddie worked my cunt over, brushing his thumb against my clit as he delved deep inside my vulva. His weight pressed down on me but that was easy enough to handle, since he couldn't have been more than a few pounds heavier than me. I got my fingers around his cock once again, and this time I held it firmly, pushing the stiff rod closer and closer to my hungry dripping snatch.
Eddie pulled his finger out and let me force his prick into my cunt. He wasn't as well hung as Peter but that was not to say that anything was lacking in his genital equipment. No, my latest lover had a cock that was hard and thick, bending slightly as it got inside me, just what I needed on a lonely Saturday afternoon.
I began moving with him immediately, wiping the sweat from my eyes and forehead and then arching my back a little until he was completely inside me. I dug my ass into the sand beneath us and then swayed my body, tightening my twat around his prick, letting the boy get used to me before he started moving.
Eddie pulled back a little, taking an inch or two of his cock out of my pussy, only to ram it in again as quickly as he could. I kept moving with him, but more slowly now, knowing that he was able to hold up his end. His prick slid in and Out of me in a quickening rhythm, making loud, wet noises in the depths of my fuck box.
I was really hot to trot that day, to the point where I knew I'd come before Eddie shot his load. He seemed to have awfully good control of his lust for a boy that young, taking his time and enjoying every second of our fuck. His strokes became longer and more penetrating, each one turning me on all the more.
I wrapped my arms around Eddie's brown back and held him close to my body, feeling my nipples being tickled by the few hairs that adorned his chest. He dug deeper into me, pressing his midsection against my body and stirring my pussy from within. I stopped moving for a moment or two, abandoning myself completely to my new lover, knowing that he'd continue to take good care of me.
Eddie began to pump harder, slamming his cock passionately into the very bottom of my hungry snatch. He put his hands on my tits again, using his fingertips this time, drumming them lightly on my swollen nipples. With his legs pressed tightly together he kept on slamming his cock deep into my cunt.
Well, I couldn't put up with that kind of stimulation for long with grass or without. I felt my body start to warm from within, felt my muscles stiffen and my cunt begin to contract. I was moving with Eddie again, sucking his cock into my cunt, knowing that erotic fulfillment would be mine in a matter of seconds.
Eddie kissed me again, but only for a few seconds. His tongue darted into my mouth and then slid out again and at the same time his prick remained stationary inside my cunt as he waited for my vaginal explosion. We both knew it was coming and he seemed as happy as myself as my orgasm finally began.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, I'm coming," I screamed. "That feels so good, so fucking good when you keep it inside me like that. DON'T MOVE, KEEP FUCKING ME, yes, yes, just like that. AAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIII."
Eddie started to fuck me more actively as my body went wild, drawing my orgasm out and making it even more passionate. I felt the juices pour out of my box, drenching him to the skin, and then I came again, my cunt muscles fluttering, my membranes so sensitive that for a moment I was sure that I'd faint.
I could smell my secretions at that point, and looking down could see that Eddie's cock was coated with my cunt honey. He let go of my tits and started to fuck me again as soon as my orgasm had ended, showing me that he'd been holding back on purpose. It took a moment for me to get my bearings but I was soon with him again, doing everything I could to increase his pleasure.
I was hot and sweaty and tired but that didn't slow me down for a second. Maybe it was the grass, maybe the novelty of making it out on the desert with a complete stranger. In any event, I began to move with Eddie, sucking his prick back into my pussy and caressing his back, eventually digging the point of my sharp fingernails into his back, using pain to stimulate his growing pleasure.
Eddie fucked me harder, almost knocking the wind out of me with each of his potent thrusts. He was a boy who knew what he wanted from a woman and knew just how to get it. I could feel every muscle in his gorgeous young body tightening and could feel the blood as it pounded and coursed through his plunging cock.
Then he stiffened completely and wasn't moving any more, just lying on top of me with his prick pulsating inside my tightly gripping pussy. His cock contracted once and I could feel his jism shooting into me with all the force of a live volcano. The come filled me entirely, shooting into the hidden crevices of my cunt, making me happy that I had pleased my lover so well.
He collapsed on top of me as soon as his coital climax had ended, panting like he had just run a four-minute mile. We lay like that for quite a while, caressing each other in desultory fashion but not saying a word. I felt Eddie's prick go soft inside me and then it was slipping away, ending our bout of lovemaking.
"Hey, that was something else," Eddie whispered to me a moment or two later. "I couldn't believe it when you wanted to fuck me. You were really far out, Margot, far fucking out."
"I liked it too," I admitted. "I guess I knew we were going to fuck as soon as I picked you up."
"You did?" Eddie asked, genuinely surprised. "I mean, I was hoping right from the start but I wasn't really expecting anything."
"Why not?" I asked rhetorically. "You're young and good-looking and we liked each other. There was no reason not to fuck. I don't see why that surprises you so much."
Eddie lit another joint as he thought that over. He was an experienced young man but I had evidently taken him quite by surprise in putting out for him without coyness or delay. I took a few deep drags on the grass and this time it really got to me. I felt cool and happy and dreamy, free as I had never been before.
I was tempted to get back into the car and travel with Eddie, leaving my job and home and friends behind. It was a pretty fantasy but I knew I would never do it. Eddie was nice enough but we wouldn't have gotten along too well together for any extended period of time. No, it was better just to enjoy him for one enchanted afternoon and then send the young hitch-hiker on his way west.
We talked for a while longer and I learned a little more about Eddie. His life had not been especially interesting or unusual but he had a way about him that amused and delighted me. Once you got past the long hair and the silly hippy jargon, Eddie turned out to be an intelligent, sharp, ironic-minded young man.
It was getting late and I knew that he'd want to leave me soon. Personally I would have been more than content to stay there fucking and sucking until the sun went down but that wouldn't have been fair to him. Still, there were several hours of daylight left, which meant that we had ample time to make it together once again.
As if reading my mind, Eddie kissed me, a long, probing kiss that seemed to go on eternally. I sucked his tongue deep into my mouth and ran my hands all over his body, nothing with satisfaction that he had got another hard-on in the interim. Now all we had to do was decide which way we wanted to make love to each other.
I went right for Eddie's prick at that point, bending over his prone body and fastening my lips around that thick, curved shaft of rock-hard passion. He was fully erect already and I had to stretch my lips a little to take him in, but soon enough I was sucking his cock to the young lad's complete satisfaction.
I ran my tongue up and down that thick shaft, coating it with saliva and getting a taste of my own come, thick and salty on the surface of his stick. Eddie lay there completely passive as I blew him, but I had a feeling that he'd want to get in on the action soon, which was pretty much in keeping with my desires.
I let his prick slide out of my lips and went directly to work on the boy's balls, brushing my tongue against the soft, almost hairless sac and then taking it into my hungry mouth. Eddie sighed aloud with lust, showing me that I was pleasing him. His balls fit nicely in my mouth, making me salivate more than ever as his prick slapped lightly against my flushed cheek.
His balls kept my interest for a few moments and then I went back to Eddie's prick, flicking my tongue out and wiping it against his thick, swollen glans. He let me do that for several moments and then pushed my head away. Then he changed position so that he could get at my hungry pussy with his own tongue and lips.
We got into the sixty-nine position in a matter of seconds, lying side by side, each of us with one leg lifted. My head was cradled on Eddie's muscular brown thigh and now his prick was in my mouth again, throbbing palpably, showing me that it wouldn't take me long to bring him to a climax.
At that same instant, I felt Eddie's tongue sliding into my cunt. He had his head wedged between my thighs and his upper lip seemed just a fraction of an inch away from my clitoris, which had already begun to swell and fill with blood. I knew right off that he was going to be good at giving me head.
His tongue glided into my box and he began to lick and suck, covering my inner membranes with saliva and almost making me forget that his prick was still throbbing in my mouth. I wasn't doing much for him at that particular moment, but Eddie's prick stayed hard, a good demonstration of his virility.
Our bodies were locked together and working toward the same goal. I hardly knew Eddie yet it was as if our bodies had been intimate a thousand times before. Everything he did to me felt good and right, turned me on in no uncertain terms, and I felt sure that I was doing as good a job on him.
He pulled his tongue out of my cunt after only a few seconds of exploration but that turned out all right. His lips parted and then I felt the tip of Eddie's tongue on my clit, passing lightly over that sensitive little gland. I shuddered with lust and began to suck harder on his thick, unbending cock.
We went at it slow and easy, enjoying the feel of the baking sun on our naked bodies. I could taste a few drops of come that had seeped out of the head of Eddie's cock and that only made me hungry for more. Meanwhile, his tongue continued to delight my clitoris, playing back and forth over it, causing me to squirm beside him and rub my tits up against his hard, smooth body.
I took in the full length of Eddie's cock, enjoying every thick inch of that luscious tool. It bulged deep in my throat but I kept it there for a good while, biting gently into its base and kissing his tangled pubic hairs. Now his hand was on my ass, pushing my body closer to his mouth, as if he could not get enough of the thick juices that were pouring out of me.
Eddie stepped up the pace, putting his tongue back into my vulva and flicking it inside me while his fingers dug deep into the soft skin of my plump buttocks. We both were writhing and moving around a lot but we were doing it together and each movement was quickly incorporated into the general flow of our lovemaking.
At no time did I feel that I was doing anything wrong. My body was burning with lust and I was giving Eddie more pleasure than he'd probably ever experienced before. My mind was closed to anything but the pure physical sensations of the moment, what I was feeling and what I was doing for my lover.
Eddie's prick slid part way out of my mouth and I kept my lips wrapped tightly around it and used the tip of my tongue to its best advantage, tickling and teasing the underside of that curved scimitar. He began to shove his cock into my mouth, showing that I had really got to him, made him lose control of his passion.
I didn't know which of us would come first, and I didn't really care. We were working together in harmony and it all felt good, every second of it. My cunt muscles were fluttering, my body was warm and sensitive and the boy with me was obviously having his passion roused to an intense level.
I kept delighting Eddie's cock with the combined action of my lips, teeth and tongue and I added to his pleasure my running my hands all over his handsome, slender body. I loved the way he felt, his dry skin and contracting muscles, the rhythm with which he bobbed his head up and down against my wide-open cunt.
Once again, I had forgotten all about the grass we'd smoked and was concentrating completely on sexual sensations. I suppose the stuff had affected me in some way or other but I wasn't too impressed with it. Still, it certainly wasn't getting in the way of the good time we were having together.
Eddie began to alternate strokes between my cunt and clitoris and then he pulled my body closer to his so that he could get at my ass-hole. I felt his thick tongue exploring around that tiny opening and then it was inside me, getting me good and wet. I tensed all my muscles and felt myself moving closer to a climax.
But I was able to delay my orgasm for quite a while longer than I'd expected. Maybe it was the effect of the grass or the fact that I had come just a few minutes earlier or maybe it was because there was a natural sex affinity between me and Eddie. It doesn't really matter, though, since the end result was that I was able to enjoy it to the fullest before finally parting with my juices.
We rolled over so that I was flat on my back with Eddie on top of me and that was the position that we maintained until both of us had come. His prick entered my mouth at a different angle but I soon found that I could take it in easily, every inch of that stiff, mouth-watering sugar stick.
And Eddie's tongue went deeper than ever into my cunt, seeming to reach almost as far as his cock had done. That really turned me on, having that soft, flexible moist organ probing deep inside me. My whole body was aflame by that juncture and I could tell that Eddie wasn't far behind me. He was fucking my mouth with greater urgency, humping me in a way that meant business.
We both struggled against our orgasms from then on, though it was of course a losing battle. It became sort of a competition, with each of us doing everything in his power to make the other one come first. I guess it was only natural that I won that mock-battle, considering my age and greater sexual experience.
I sucked at Eddie's cock until my cheeks were hollow and then he stopped moving inside my mouth. His prick got a little thicker and then it began to convulse. Even with his mouth fastened to my pussy, Eddie was able to make his passion heard, moaning and going wild as he was forced to come in my mouth.
I welcomed his flood of come as if it had been manna from the heavens. Three separate streams of hot lather cascaded into my mouth and I managed to get it all down without wasting a drop of the saline fluids. But, as I was digging the taste of my lover's jism I felt myself also starting to climax.
My cunt tissues contracted around Eddie's tongue and then the fluids oozed out of me, copiously and repeatedly. Eddie drank them down and kept pulling at my labia with his lips, kept pushing his tongue deeper into my vulva. It was as if he couldn't get enough of my sweet, free-flowing vaginal bounty.
We held that position for at least five minutes after our orgasms, knowing that we would soon be saying good-bye. After Eddie's cock had wilted completely in my mouth I let go of it and got slowly to my feet. I felt a little dizzy from the sun but basically I had never felt better in my life.
We got dressed without saying too much to each other and then Eddie folded his tarp and incorporated it into the rest of his gear. He got into the car and I joined him a moment later, after taking a good look at our surroundings. Someday I might want to come back to this place and simulate memories of our day together.
I took Eddie about fifty miles down the main highway and dropped him off at a spot where he thought might get another ride. He offered me some of his grass, which I refused, and then he took my address and telephone number. I knew I'd most-likely never hear from him again but there was no reason not to hope for that to happen, along with a recurrence of our lovemaking.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Another two weeks and Peter would be back from his ridiculous baseball camp, I told myself the following Saturday. You'd think that I'd have been in a good mood about that, really elated, but in fact I had begun to view his return with trepidation. There were a number of good reasons for that.
First, naturally, was the possibility that Peter would want nothing to do with me, having decided that he had had his fun and didn't want to complicate his life any longer with a woman twice his age. But that would have surprised me. In plain terms, I had sunk my hooks into the boy and had trapped him inescapably.
No, Peter would still be hot for me, body and soul. My own feelings and desires were far more problematic. If I took up with Peter again it meant having a long, complicated relationship that would at times be difficult for both of us. We'd have to keep it secret at all cost, a sizable obstacle.
But even that didn't worry me too much. It had been done before, I knew, by thousands of couples. My real problem was deciding whether I wanted Peter and if so, why. In other words, was I really hung up on young lovers, was there something special about him apart from his age or was it some combination of the two.
In Peter's absence I had chased experience, had tried to make it with different kinds of men, as much of a variety as possible. I had learned quite a bit about myself but not enough. According to Roger, that was my main problem, that I demanded a kind of certainty that didn't exist in real people or real life.
Nonetheless, I had no choice but to continue, to follow the same path for another two weeks. Selfishly, I wanted to get laid, but there was concern for Peter in my actions as well. I wanted to come to him as a woman who knew herself thoroughly, a woman who could guide him through difficulties, a woman he could trust completely.
So, when I went out driving that day it was with the full intention of finding and making it with another man. I wasn't going to force things but certainly wasn't going to turn down anything that looked attractive. I wasn't really relaxed that day but as I headed north at least I felt strong and in control of my destiny.
I slowed down when I saw two motorcycles standing on the opposite shoulder of the narrow road I'd chosen. One of the bikes was standing but the other had been turned over onto its side. Two young men wearing orange tee shirts were kneeling over the second machine. Tools were scattered on the asphalt around them.
Without thinking about it, I stopped and pulled off the road. Getting out, I greeted the two boys, both of whom looked just about old enough to have drivers licenses. Getting a better look at them I was tempted to bolt back into my car and speed away. They looked like a pair of juvenile delinquents from a B-grade movie, nasty, surly, tough, suspicious and anything but hospitable.
"Thanks for stopping, lady," one of them addressed me. "You wouldn't happen to have a three-quarter ratchet wrench in your trunk would you? We got some real trouble here."
I nodded and opened the trunk, chiding myself for my childish fears. The boy had addressed me in perfectly civil tones. He had even smiled. He and his friend, both tall and dark-haired, were quite pleasant looking. The motorcycles had thrown me off, had engendered an obviously false and negative first impression.
I found the tool and ten minutes later the boys had finished their work. By then we had got into a conversation that made me reconsider both my first and second judgments of them. While not as bad as they might have been, neither boy was what you might call a model citizen. They were more than tough enough for my taste.
Still, I found myself accepting their invitation to follow them to one of their houses. I had been following instinct for a month and this was no time to stop, even if they did have me upset with their talk of shop-lifting, burglary and various other crimes and misdemeanors. We got to their house within five minutes and I didn't hesitate to follow them in.
The place was a dilapidated shack, probably abandoned for twenty years before Jeff and Tom, my hosts, had moved into it. It needed paint, cleaning, plastering, and redecorating in that order and I sensed that the plumbing and sanitary features might have been even worse. Undeterred, I sat down on a remarkably lumpy couch and accepted a can of beer from Tom. The boys sat on either side of me as we quenched our thirsts with the tepid beer.
"So, do you like bikes or do you just dig hanging out with young dudes?" Tom asked, moving a little closer to me on the narrow sofa and exhaling smoke in my direction. "You're a good-lookin' mama and I dig the way you're Duttin' down that beer."
"Yeah, she digs us okay," Jeff answered for me. "Shit, it's always those old, sophisticated looking ones that turn out wildest, right man? We're gonna have some real fun together."
I still hadn't said anything to Jeff and Tom, even now when they had closed in on me, one of their muscular shoulders pressing against my either side. I didn't like the way they were smiling, a nasty self-satisfied pair of grins, and I wondered what kind of drugs they were on. Maybe it was just beer, but I got the feeling that I'd have to be very careful in dealing with these two.
"Let's stop fucking around," Tom suggested. "We ain't got all day-got all kinds of shit to do. Get out of that clothing, mama honey. Let's see if those tits are for real."
He punctuated the remark by grabbing my right breast and squeezing it hard between his strong, oil-covered fingers. It hurt and I practically jumped, but I didn't say anything. I had to make a quick decision; give in to the boys or try very quickly to make my escape. Things didn't look very promising.
Tom grabbed the neckline of my thin cotton blouse and pulled straight down until the material ripped and came away from my chest. Realizing that the decision had been made for me, I stood up immediately and unhooked my brassiere. Then I hurried out of my jeans, trying to stay a step ahead of my captors.
I was their captive, all right, a stupid middle-aged woman who had let her free-wheeling ways take her a little too far. Visions of lurid newspaper headlines flashed through my mind. Tom and Jeff seemed capable of rape and assault and a whole lot more and I could easily see them getting rough with me before the day was over.
Standing before them in my panties, I waited for instructions. The two boys looked at one another, looked back at me and then smiled broadly. Despite their 1950's haircuts and alcohol-clouded eyes, their smiles were young and almost innocent. I was scared but not terrified, had the feeling that things would turn out less than disastrous as long as I didn't do or say anything foolish.
Jeff stood up from the couch and took me into his hairy, muscular arms, pressing my body against his thick, hard chest. He kissed me very violently, pushing the full length of his tongue between my lips and letting his hand wander down to my ass. Soon his fingers were under the waistband of my panties, against my bare skin.
Tom, meanwhile, had gone for another can of beer, leaving me to his friend's less then tender mercies. I felt a foot kicking against my ankle and suddenly I was flat on my back on the carpet with the boy standing over me. I watched in silence as he opened his fly, ceremoniously baring an already stiff prick.
Jeff was well hung, his prick standing straight out before his body, seven inches of gnarled muscle and bulging veins. He crooked his finger at me, signalling me to sit up and then his prick was inches from my lips. I knew what to do, knew what he wanted from me, knew that I was going to do it without complaint.
As I parted my lips to give him a blowjob, the boy grabbed my tits again, pushing them together with his hands. I closed my lips around his erect member and ran my tongue along the glans, still hoping that he would minimize the rough stuff. He held onto my breasts but his touch was reasonably gentle for the next few moments.
There I was, on my knees and blowing a complete stranger, waiting for his friend to come in and join the party. I had the feeling that I would have to go all the way out to satisfy Jeff and Tom and to that effect began to suck Jeff's cock with a will. I felt him shudder with pleasure, which I took as a promising sign.
Immediately, he began to fuck my mouth, pushing his prick deep into my throat. Repressing the urge to gag, I took it in until his zipper was cold against my cheek. His hand was on the nape of my neck now, holding me close, keeping me from backing up an inch. Looking up, I could see that he was smiling wickedly.
He let me work on his prick freely for the next few minutes, occasionally barking instructions at me and commenting on my technique. He liked what I was doing to him but his language was filthy and insulting. I was being treated like a whore, a piece of merchandise who had asked for whatever she was getting.
But I persisted, rubbing my tits against the boy's thighs and sliding my tongue along the full seven inches of his hard cock. I might as well admit now that I was beginning to get turned on by the experience. I suppose every woman fantasized about rape at some time or other and now it was really happening to me. The feeling of total helplessness was actually arousing me sexually.
My head bobbed gracefully up and down on Jeff's cock and I felt comfortable on my knees before him. Jeff rocked back and forth on his heels, really into it now, not saying a word but loving the feel of my caressing tongue. My lips were tight around his hard shaft and I knew that a mouthful of come was on the way.
I really wanted Jeff to come in my mouth, wanted to kneel before him and swallow his hot lather. I had been turned into a pure sex object and I was loving it. My oral technique had never been better. My lips and tongue felt extra sensitive, able to anticipate Jeff's desires and satisfy them immediately and instinctively.
Soon his prick was burning hot, its veins bulging dangerously. I could feel his blood throbbing, could feel the semen filling his cock to the bursting point. My tongue moved faster, licking incessantly, bathing him with saliva. Even the front of his tight black jeans were dark and wet with my spit soaking into them.
"You want it, don't you?" Jeff asked, his voice gentle and soothing. "You really want my come, you want me to shoot it into your mouth. Tell me, honey, tell me what you want."
I let his cock slide out of my mouth long enough to answer. "Yes, I want your come, all of it," I whispered eagerly. "Give it to me, Jeff, let me taste you. Sock it to me, baby. Put it back in my mouth and come. I'm going to swallow it all.
Jeff smiled down to me and then nodded to Tom, who at that point was standing about three feet to the left of us. He held his prick in his right hand and kept it just inches from my hungry mouth. I inclined my head toward that purple, pulsating cock and he moved it away from me again. The frustration was unbearable.
"Sure, you can have it," Jeff told me, wiping the swollen crown of his prick slightly across my pursed lips. "But you got to let Tom fuck you at the same time. That's my price."
I just nodded, Tom being the furthest thing from my mind at that point, and then I felt him crouching behind me. Jeff took a step backward and sat on the edge of the couch, signaling for me to crawl over to him. As I bent my head for his cock, I could feel Tom working his prick into me from behind.
But, as I said, I didn't notice that I was being fucked. I was aware of a second cock in my body, a short, thick rod that filled my barely lubricated cunt to capacity, but all I could think about was Jeff's prick, inches from my mouth, quivering before its orgasm, already beginning to leak a few drops of the jism I craved.
Jeff pressed his cock against my cheek and then pulled it slowly away to the side. Then, out of nowhere, he slapped it against me with all the strength of his beefy right hand. His prick came back the other way, slapping against and bruising my other cheek, starting a series of blow that were painful in more ways than one.
My cheeks turned red and as I lurched forward I was finally aware of Tom, who was shoving his prick into my cunt so hard that I would have fallen over without Jeff to support me in front. Jeff kept up a steady tattoo of blows to my cheeks with his cock, cackling and snorting with glee the whole time. Tom was laughing too, adding to my humiliation. I can truly say that I've never felt lower or more abused and betrayed in my whole life than I did at that moment.
At last Jeff stopped hitting me with his penial cudgel. He held the thick tube, now redder than ever, right before my eyes and jerked himself off for a moment, using hard pounding strokes of his tightly clenched fist. Then he came, shooting a thick stream of viscous semen into my face, instantly coating me with jism.
The stuff got into my eyes, all over my cheeks, everywhere but inside my mouth where I wanted it. Jeff screamed aloud with pleasure and triumph as he shot a second time, wiping his spurting prick on my face. I felt like I was drowning in the semen and I coughed as a stream of it somehow went up my nostrils. Jeff's balls seemed a bottomless pit as my shower went on and on.
He slumped back onto the couch as he finished coming and I had to bring my hands quickly down to the floor to keep from being knocked over by Tom, still fucking me lustily from the rear. I stared at Jeff through a mask of come and he was grinning broadly, proud of the way he had crushed and humiliated me.
I had to close my eyes as the come dried on my face, had to forget Jeff completely. Tom made that easier for me, digging his fingers into my hips to hold me in position and then pulling his cock all the way out of my pussy. He held his prick against my opening and then pushed his body forward, ramming all the way into me with a single stroke, the most painful I had ever sustained.
His prick wasn't especially large but he was attacking me rather than fucking me, treating me like a crate he was trying to push across the floor. I tightened every muscle in my body but he made it even harder for me by lowering his chest onto my back and forcing me to support his weight. His hips continued to churn and his prick was still wreaking havoc inside my pussy, scraping against my membranes and jarring me with each vicious thrust.
This time I didn't get turned on. Strangely enough, my mind was clear and I wasn't panicking. I knew that the boys weren't going to kill me or injure me. Perhaps in a few years they would be ready for those kind of kicks, but they were youngsters, just starting out on their strange path. Maybe I was the first woman they had lured to their shack. In any case, I figured that they would continue to abuse me sexually but not in any other way.
So, I held my position as best I could while Tom whaled away at my defenseless cunt. There was no way I could enjoy my subjection now. I had been seduced into masochism and the romance had quickly been beaten out of it. I felt that I deserved what I was getting and there was pleasure in that but for the moment shame was foremost in my mind. It wasn't nice to be a desperate forty year old woman voluntarily servicing the lusts of a pair of young hoodlums.
I got used to Tom's abusive fucking fairly quickly. The boy was panting like a grampus after a few minutes and then his assault slowed. My cunt was wet enough by then and I even moved with him a little. I was turning him on and it was possible that he'd come quickly, putting an end to the whole sordid experience.
Abasement and humiliation must have aphrodisiac powers because I began to get aroused once Tom slowed his pace. He didn't try to arouse me, of course, but his cock was thick and hard and nobody had said anything in a while, allowing me to let my mind drift, to forget where I was and who was fucking me.
Pretty soon I had achieved a level of detachment that had lessened my unhappiness considerably. I concentrated just on Tom's short, thick cock, sliding rapidly into my juicy cunt, sloshing in my fluids, rubbing against my sensitive pussy walls. He was throbbing and pulsating, almost ready to shoot his load.
"Hey, man, you're not just going to use her cunt," Jeff mocked his friend. "What the fuck you think her ass-hole's for? Hey, she wants it that way. I know these fuckin' middle-aged nymphos. Go ahead, honey, ask him to corn-hole you."
I was going to get it either way and it seemed best to play along with Jeff, let him live out his fantasies. The words didn't come easy to me but I got them out. "Tom, go ahead, take it out of my twat and fuck me in the ass. Please, please, corn-hole me."
Both boys laughed good and hard and Tom didn't wait long before accepting my invitation. My ass-hole was dry except for a little pussy juice that had spattered around it and it wasn't going to be pleasant to be penetrated but the one thing in my favor was that Tom's cock was dripping and slippery from my vaginal secretions.
"You asked for it, Mama," he chuckled, "and you're going to get it. In the ass, just like the lady requested."
He held the tip of his prick against my anal aperture and then leaned slowly forward, using thumb and forefinger to stuff the glans into my hole. I was down low at that point with my back swayed and my thighs far apart. My ass-hole was relaxed inside, as relaxed as I could make it in my current state of mind.
I felt each inch of Tom's cock as it slid into me. I could feel it bend slightly from the tight fit but Tom persisted, exhaling very loudly as he shot the bolt home. My ass-hole stretched to take him in but I still felt a good deal of pain. It was like being torn apart from within, but my dryness was the worst aspect of it.
Still, Tom got all the way inside my ass-hole, and I knew it'd be able to take it. He ground his midsection against my soft tan buttocks and grunted with pleasure. His prick was still throbbing and I knew that he wouldn't be able to resist my tight, clinging ass-hole for long. He'd come in a minute at the most.
He took it easy for the first few strokes but then his prick came at me harder and more rapidly. Each thrust brought his balls against my cunt and thighs with a resounding thud! but Tom was not as cruel or as imaginative as his friend Jeff. He obviously liked having his prick up my tight bunghole but didn't seem to care much about humiliating me in my helplessness.
He pressed my buttocks together, making them tight around his plunging cock: I seemed to be getting a little wetter then, able to take his strokes with very little discomfort. I opened my eyes and saw that Jeff was standing before the couch watching me closely. His face was devoid of emotion but I couldn't help noticing that his prick was again distended and hard.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, fuck, that feels so fucking good," Tom screamed as he tried to hold back his climax. "It's so tight, just like a little virgin. AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH, yeah, baby, you'll get my come. AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"
With that, Tom gave up his juices, keeping his cock buried to the base in my ass-hole and filling me with come. That was the best thing I'd felt all day, a soothing wave of hot, bubbling semen, coating my stretched and sore anal membranes. And his cock seemed to shrink immediately after that one huge shot of jism. He moved around inside me but soon I could feel his wilting prick sliding out.
I stayed down on all fours as Tom withdrew from me and went over to talk to his friend. Their backs were to me and they were whispering, but I was able to pick up a lot of their conversation.
Tom was for letting me leave now that they'd had their fun but Jeff kept insisting that they use my body again, there and then.
After a few more words were exchanged, Tom pulled his pants back up and walked angrily from the room. I heard his motorcycle's engine starting and then the sound receded as he headed for the road. That left me alone with Jeff, which scared daylights out of me. One man should have been easier to handle than two but now Jeff was free to give rein to his worst instincts.
"You really dug that, didn't you?" he asked me rather quietly. "I can't believe that. You really dug it when I got rough with you."
"Yes, I did," I answered candidly. "But only because it never happened to me before. I suppose there are women who get their fun that way but I'm not one of them. You can do what you want to me because I can't stop you, but don't think I'm going to like it."
"You mean you just wanted to fuck?" Jeff asked, his voice young and confused. "I don't know, I was sure you were one of those weirdo women that liked getting roughed up. I just didn't know."
It was an incredible turnaround. I'd been scared half to death of what Jeff would do to me and now he was practically at the point of tears. It had been an act on his part, a role he'd felt called upon to play. Now I could see him as he really was, an intensely lonely young man, confused, lost, looking for guidance.
I lay flat on my back on the rug and beckoned for him to join me. For a moment, Jeff stared at me suspiciously but then he stripped himself to the skin and lay beside me, cradling my head on his right bicep and kissing me tenderly, letting only the point of his pink tongue slide between my moist, parted lips.
It almost felt like being with Peter Bloy again, Jeff was so timid and gentle. He touched me as if afraid I would break, using only his fingertips to explore my tits and neck and shoulders, then moving his hand slowly down my belly and toward my cunt. His prick was still erect and I thought it best not to touch it. I didn't want to do anything to break his present mood.
Jeff worked one finger into my cunt and then added a second, stirring me softly from within and eliciting a groan of pleasure from my parted lips. He was half on top of me now with his prick pressed against my hip. I wanted him inside me, had to feel that big prick throbbing as it slid into my dripping wet snatch.
At last the boy entered me, draping his body over mine and guiding his prick home with his right hand. He fit into me easily, filling my twat to the brim, and then he kissed me again as his body weight sank down onto my torso. I sucked his tongue greedily, feeling that I was going to come on the spot.
We lay completely still for a moment, getting used to one another until our pulses seemed to be beating in perfect synchronicity. His prick vibrated inside my cunt and then I started moving, no longer able to control my desires. I was no longer aware of our grubby surroundings, had forgotten my recent humiliation. All I knew at that point was how good his prick felt buried deep inside me.
I ground my ass into the hard floor and swiveled my hips a little, tightening my cunt around Jeff's still stationary prick. He stared deep into my eyes and I could see some of the confusion lifting from his face. He was on unsteady ground, shocked by the emotions he was feeling, still understanding almost nothing.
As strange as it must sound, I taught that boy how to love during our bout of fucking. He began to slide his prick into me, slowly and tentatively, not wanting to set the pace of our lovemaking. He wanted me to be in charge, was placing himself under my control just as I had done with him half an hour earlier.
I rippled my cunt muscles around his prick and soon our bodies had set up a series of changing counter-rhythms. We moved a little faster but still we were fucking in a dignified, stately, loving manner. At last I saw Jeff smile, an innocent boyish grin that made me happier and hornier at the same time.
After that, we really got it together. We established a base of trust giving into lust. Jeff's prick slammed into me and I met the thrust with my hips. I wondered if we'd be able to celebrate our orgasms together.
I guess I've never felt more sensual than I did while fucking Jeff. His come was on my face and his friend's semen was slowly pouring from my ass-hole and Jeff was on top of me, writhing and twisting, dripping sweat all over my tired but unsated body. The tempo had picked up and we were almost ready to come.
Our movements grew violent, but paradoxically more tender and loving than ever. Our bodies heaved together, twisting and twining, rolling around on the floor. One moment I was on top, feeling his prick shoot into me, then he was above, pressing me into the floor, his prick burning as it slid back into my quim.
I have no idea how long our fuck lasted. We might have slowed down a few times but all I can remember is a rising tide of passion as we strove to fuse our bodies into a single organism. I thought I could feel everything that was happening in Jeff's body, right up to the precise instant when he came inside me.
We did come together, loudly and gloriously, seeming to shake the flimsy walls of our little shack on the desert with the shock waves of our unleashed passion. I heard myself screaming for him, felt Jeff's breath hot on my neck and face, felt our fluids mingling in my cunt, felt both of us orgasm again and again.
We slowed down but continued fucking until both of us had been drained and the shack was filled with the odor of sperm and pussy juice. Jeff went soft inside me and then pulled out gently, rolling onto his side and taking me with him. We lay cuddled up together until falling into a state of half-sleep, our eyes closed against the late day sun and our minds wandering in ineffable realms.
"You better go now," Jeff told me maybe half an hour later. "You know how I feel about you but I don't understand it myself, not yet anyway. I want to be alone with my thoughts."
Jeff's tone of voice would be impossible to describe. It was as if the two sides of his split-personality were coming together in a new combination. He was solicitous and commanding at the same time, tender and harsh, fearful and domineering. But he was right. It was certainly time for me to get out of there.
I dressed myself quickly and then kissed Jeff good-bye before leaving. Taking a chance, I said a few things to him, trying to be firm and understanding simultaneously. He was at a crossroads, I knew, with decisions to make that would influence his whole future. I was no stranger to that sort of situation.
I drove home fast, playing the radio loud and trying to keep my mind blank. It had been one hellofa day but actually, all things considered, I had been incredibly lucky. My sexual experiments were starting to get out of hand.
CHAPTER NINE
For the next ten days I was chaste as a nun, having decided my sexual experiments had gone quite far enough. I had got off easy in my dealings with Jeff and Tom and that had served as a warning to me, a damper on my enthusiasm. I would just have to wait patiently for Peter Bloy's return.
Aside from my boss and the other men at work, I had nothing to do with any member of the male species with the single exception of Roger Wilkinson. My one friend in Delford had been nice enough to call one lonely night and we had had a good conversation, a talk that did a lot toward restoring my peace of mind.
As usual, I ended up telling Roger everything I'd been doing, every detail of my strange afternoon with Tom and Jeff included. He heard me out and then didn't say anything awhile, and I knew he was weighing things carefully in his mind. Roger cared a lot for me and wasn't about to advise me carelessly.
He came to the same conclusion I had reached already, that I had had my fun, learned as much about myself as was possible in such a short time span, and that it was best for me to wait for Peter now. He seemed quite optimistic about that, although he couldn't give me any specific reasons for it.
I was tempted to drive out to Roger's house that night but I didn't, even though I'm sure he wouldn't have refused to spend a few hours in the sack with me. It wasn't that I wanted to keep myself pure for Peter, which would have been ridiculous, but that I didn't want to repeat myself. The second night with Roger would not-likely have been as good as the first.
The day of Peter's return I was really on tenterhooks, even though I had achieved peace and calm for the few days before that. The worst thing about it, in my view, was that I couldn't go out and greet Peter. Nobody knew about our relationship, so it was up to him to call me or visit or in some way reinitiate things.
So, I worked that day and then went home to get sloshed. I started with beer but quickly switched to tequila, drinking at a steady, workman-like pace. By ten I was feeling little pain but it would be a lie to say that I was drunk. My mind was clear enough to remain fixated on Peter despite the alcohol.
About midnight I decided to turn in. I figured that Peter was in town already, probably in bed, having spent the evening talking with his family. I tried to send out thought waves to him, but I've never believed in that sort of thing and finally decided that I'd find a way to reach him sometime the next day.
Naked in bed, I heard a car stop not too far from my house. I shook my head in disbelief. It was a dream, a lost motorist, maybe even a burglar, but it couldn't be Peter. Nonetheless, I put a bathrobe around my naked body and went back into the living room, facing the door and hoping for the best.
My period of suspense was mercifully brief. I recognized Peter's footsteps on my driveway and recognized his knock at the door. I was fairly calm for as long as it took to open the door and then I went completely to pieces, grabbing Peter around the neck and practically wrestling him to the floor. I was crying, too, pouring out rivulets of tears from my bleary, tipsy eyes.
We fell onto the couch together and I kissed Peter in the midst of my tears. I might as well mention that I never cry. Even when Peter left me I had controlled an urge to weep and wail. But now, for the first time since adolescence I was not only crying but enjoying it, getting a tremendous emotional release.
"Cut it out, Margot," Peter pleaded, breaking away from my kiss. "You're scaring me. Is something wrong? Please, talk to me, tell me you're all right. I've been worried about you."
"I'm fine, I'm wonderful," I answered a little too loudly. "I didn't expect you to come. I didn't know when I'd see you."
It took only five minutes to clear up the confusion. I stopped crying, given Peter's good example, and managed to tell him that nothing had changed as far as my emotions were concerned. I still loved him, still wanted him, was still as much at his disposal as ever. Of course I didn't put it in quite those terms.
It was pretty much the same as far as Peter was concerned. He told me a little about what he'd been doing, which I heard but barely noted, and then told me that he'd missed me terribly. He had known all along that he'd want me again but had been worried that I would reject him upon his return.
That was a good one and it should have made me laugh, only I started crying again, every bit as hard as before. Peter sat beside me on the sofa and held me close. His knuckles were white from gripping my shoulders before I finally calmed down again. We both knew at that point just what to do.
Without saying a word, I walked into the bedroom and heard his following footsteps. I shrugged off my robe and stood naked, turning slowly to face Peter. He looked at me for a good long while and then undressed his healthy young body, the body I missed so badly. I waited for him on the bed for another minute.
Peter took me into his arms and began to caress me. I wasn't crying but I was still pretty much out of things and it took a while before he was able to turn me on. Yet nothing was different, his touch felt the same, his body hadn't changed at all. Everything was as good as I could possibly have hoped.
It took a while before I could reciprocate Peter's attentions but I started to enjoy the feel of his hands on my naked body. He explored every inch of me, the soles of my feet, the nape of my neck, my armpits, my calves and thighs. It was as if he couldn't get enough of my always substantial body.
And then I began to caress him as well, pressing my palm against his hard-muscled chest, squeezing his biceps, stroking his corrugated midsection. My hand moved lower and I felt his prick, already stiffening and filling with blood. It was an embarrassment of riches and I hardly knew where to go or what to do to him. And I have no idea how long this phase of our lovemaking lasted.
I wrapped my fingers around Peter's cock and began to pull at it, slowly at first but then with ever increasing passion and desire. He got hard as a rock in record time and then I knew what I had to do. My mouth was watering for a taste of his meat. I had to get that gorgeous rod between my impatient lips.
I slithered down on the bed, feeling reasonably clear-headed considering how much I had drunk, and got my face parallel to Peter's crotch. His prick looked the same as ever, thick and hard, dark and curving slightly upward. I moved closer to it, parting my lips and letting my tongue slide out between them.
It was sheer heaven to be sucking him off again, a fantasy made flesh and a dream come true. My emotions were a mess, an amalgam of hope, joy, fear, apprehension, triumph and confusion, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own. I was able to close my lips around his cock as if our situation were nothing out of the ordinary.
Peter lay flat on his back as I blew him. It was dark but I knew that his eyes were open and focused on me. I framed his rod with my thick lips and then used my tongue on his swollen glans, rubbing it up and down and spreading a film of saliva on the taut skin. Peter sighed once but otherwise kept pretty good control of himself, at least for the next few minutes.
And I proceeded to give him the best blow-job I had ever bestowed on a man. I took his prick in one inch at a time, covering every inch of it with my caressing lips and then following with my tongue. I made sure not to bite into his tender flesh, made sure that he loved every minute of our erotic reunion.
It didn't take long for me to get the full seven inches of my young lover's rod into my mouth, even though I was still keeping up a slow and stately pace. I pressed my lips softly to Peter's pubic bush and bit gently into the base of his cock with my teeth. We held that position for what seemed a long time and Peter's cock moved only in the sense that I could feel it quivering.
I pulled back as slowly as I had taken him in, letting a few inches of Peter's prick escape from my tightly clinging lips. Staring in the darkness, I could see that the jungle of his pubic hair was now soaking wet as if after a rainstorm. And I could tell from his heavy breathing that Peter was enjoying himself immensely.
About half of Peter's cock stayed in my mouth and I continued to work it over with a will. Most of the liquor seemed out of my system by that point but I was still feeling kind of spaced out, just from being with my loved one again. The whole reunion still seemed like something I was dreaming.
I bobbed my head slowly up and down, taking in a little more of his prick with every downward motion. Soon I was moving faster, sucking every glorious inch of that huge, hard prick, causing my youthful lover to scream aloud with lust and desire. I knew he was going to come soon, but that didn't bother me.
No, I wanted his come, wanted to feel it pouring into my mouth for the first time in over six weeks. I wanted to fuck Peter as well but figured that that wouldn't be much of a problem. It wasn't-likely that he had lost his virility in our period of separation. If anything, he seemed more of a stud than ever.
Peter began to shove his prick into my mouth, no longer able to control his raging passion. I tried to ignore his counter-motions but his prick was so huge that it was impossible. I slowed down a little bit, loosening my lips around his shaft but continuing to pander to his lust with the action of my tongue.
I had forgotten nothing about Peter's body. All his reactions were perfectly familiar. I could feel him getting hot and bothered, could feel the come moving up from his balls and forming a temporary reservoir at the tip of his cock, and I could feel his whole body getting tense and stiff as my blowjob proceeded.
By this point we had moved around so that Peter was lying practically on top of me. I felt his balls crushed against my tits and could sense his whole weight looming a few inches above me. His prick penetrated to the bottom of my throat with each of his lunges, showing me that he was almost ready to fly.
I lay back with my arms at my sides, knowing that I had nothing more to do now than wait for him to come. He fucked my mouth fiercely, humping his body and shaking his ass frantically. Occasionally his prick hurt me or made nauseous but that was no barrier. I would have put up with anything to hasten his impending climax.
And then it happened, the thing I had waited for. Peter slowed down and then shoved his prick into my mouth once more, fitting the head between my lips and then holding it still. I felt his balls tighten against my left breast and then my mouth was swimming in come. Best of all, Peter was screaming, telling me what my lips and tongue had done to him.
"I'M COMING, MARGOT, shit, I'm coming in your mouth!" he groaned. "YES, YES, YES, I missed you so bad, Margot, I wanted you every night! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, that's it, don't stop, let me come inside you! That feels so good, so fucking good. I'm coming, Margot, AAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIII!"
In the midst of his frenzied howls, I caught three separate streams of come, each an overwhelming shower of thick saline lather. My mouth was quickly filled to capacity and I found it hard to swallow in the position I had assumed. I got most of his come down, relishing the luscious fluids to the fullest, but some of the jism started to pour out of my mouth. Before Peter finished coming, I was bathed in come right down to my tits. His orgasm seemed to go on indefinitely and he stayed hard as a rock even after his prick had stopped spurting. He evacuated my mouth a few seconds later and quickly lay down beside me, his trembling body still showing signs of lust.
We talked for awhile and then I realized that there wasn't going to be any hurry about our lovemaking. Peter figured that his whole family was sound asleep after the party they'd thrown for him and were not-likely to notice his absence. In any case, he was through worrying about that sort of thing.
"I don't care if they find out about us, Margot," he insisted, his face flowing with determination. "I love you and you love me and it's stupid to go on hiding it. We don't have to go around telling everybody that we're fucking but we ain't going to hide it either. No more of that, it's all over now."
"Darling, we can't," I said as gently as I could.
"Even if your parents accepted it, even if nobody in town gave a damn, it's still against the law for us to be making it together."
"But I can't stand the secrecy," Peter complained. "I love you, Margot. I'm proud of you. How can I go on hiding that?"
I shushed Peter and explained things to him, just as I had done in our first days together. Our love had to remain clandestine, there was just no remedy for that. Perhaps we could spend a night together now and then, maybe we could go away together for a weekend, but under no circumstances could we make our relationship public.
"Then I'll lie to my parents," Peter insisted. "I'll tell them that I have a girlfriend but I won't tell them who she is. And I'll make them let me spend the night out. I'm too old for them to push around. Man, just let them try it."
Actually, Peter's suggestion seemed a good one and I didn't hesitate to tell him so. He was at an age where a certain amount of rebellion was considered the norm and from what he had told me about his parents they didn't seem the type who would panic if he sowed a few wild oats. As long as my identity as his woman remained secret his plan was as good as any other.
Once we agreed on that, there wasn't much else to talk about. We could have gone into all the details of our daily life during the past six weeks, but there would be plenty of time for that in the weeks ahead. Peter suddenly remembered that he hadn't fucked me yet, which was a good thing, since I had remained painfully horny through the course of our conversation.
Peter's right hand was hot against my groin. His fingers sought out my ebony bush and soon I could feel him stroking my labia, already wet and longing for his touch. Without looking, I knew that he had maintained his hard-on and would be inside me after just a few moments of tantalizing fore play.
But Peter wasn't ready to fuck me quite yet and there was nothing I could do to make him hurry. His index finger slid into my dripping quim and sank up to the last knuckle. He kept it all the way in me while my inner sphincters closed down on him and my passion continued to climb to new peaks of intensity.
He rotated his finger slowly, exploring my cunt as if he had to make sure that nothing had changed inside me. Then I felt his thumb brushing lightly against my clitoris, pulling the trigger of my lust. I was crawling out of my skin at that point, ready to rape my young darling if he didn't fuck me soon.
Peter removed his finger from my cunt and I parted my legs further, smiling in the darkness and knowing that my moment of fulfillment was at hand. But Peter took me by surprise again, sliding his body down the bed with his usual agility and not stopping until his face was pressed hard against my pubic mound.
His tongue darted out and brushed my labia, slowly and tenderly, just as his fingers had done. I held my breath, loving the feel of his tongue but hoping that he wouldn't keep it up for long. I could have come from being eaten but I wanted something harder and larger than a tongue inside me. Even when Peter began to lick my clitoris frustration mounted to the point of madness.
But Peter had a mind of his own and was not going to fuck me until what he considered the right moment. He obviously wanted my passion to be at a fever pitch and he brought it that high by working his tongue in and out of my pussy and then drawing it slowly but firmly on my erect, bright red clitoris.
I was swimming in cunt juice, rolling my body from side to side on the mattress and then finally I was vocalizing my needs.
"Fuck me, Peter, please FUCK MEEE! Get on top of me and put it INSIDE me. I NEED you, I have to feel you in my cunt. I'll do anything for Peter. Please, fuck me!"
My voice was a monotonous chant that seemed to take Peter by surprise. He had felt me get hotter under his caresses but had underestimated the level of my passion. Now he knew exactly where I was at, half out of my mind with lust. He knew that he could satisfy me, that he could do it immediately.
Peter climbed on top of me, his body hard and trembling slightly. His prick burned against me as he wiggled his torso, trying to sneak it into my cunt. I reached down and took his prick by the collar, slowly guiding it into my overflowing cunt, just as Peter's body subsided onto me, light and lithe as ever.
He was inside my twat in a second. First the head parted my moist labia and then I could feel the full seven inches sliding in. He was thick and hard as ever but his prick was pulsating rapidly and spasmodically. It felt like he was going to come but I knew that was impossible. After all, I had just blown Peter and could still taste the remnants of his come in my mouth.
Peter kept his prick buried to the hilt inside me until he had calmed down a little. Now that I could feel his huge prick stretching my pussy membranes I was calm again, totally happy and fulfilled. I was close to orgasm but there was no need to rush headlong in that direction. I wanted our first fuck to be good, the best ever.
I felt Peter's prick slide two inches out of me and then he thrust back in quickly, as if afraid I would disappear. I didn't move with Peter yet but let him set the tempo. It figured that six weeks of deprivation would throw him off, considering that he had had no sex life at all before the start of our affair.
But it didn't really take long for Peter to get used to fucking me again. His movements were shy and tentative but that in itself was a turn on, a reminder of how young and innocent my lover really was. And soon he was fucking me with his old self-confidence, with the full knowledge of just how well he was turning me on.
I wrapped my arms around his warm back and drew Peter close to me. It was hot and I could hardly breath but I just couldn't get close enough to the boy. I felt like crying again, but that passed quickly. Peter's cock was palpitating inside my cunt and soon lust reigned supreme in my body. We were together again, as close together as a man and woman can be.
I began to move with Peter, very subtly, not wanting to break the aura of sultry lust that had risen around us. I could feel each muscle in my body doing its part in the dance of love. I had never before felt so sure of myself, so complete and satisfied. Body and mind had fused into a singel entity.
Two minds and two bodies, really, since Peter was with me every step of the way. Our movements were graceful and perfectly timed and our desires followed identical patterns. When he fucked me hard and fast it was because we both wanted it that way. When he slowed down to the point where he was hardly moving at all, I did the same without having to think about it consciously.
Yes, it was the best fucking I had ever done, and it got better and better. Peter's prick seemed absolutely gigantic as it slid between my dripping labia. I could feel him all over me, as if my whole body had turned into a pleasure organ. And I knew without asking that Peter felt the same thing.
He pulled his prick all the way out of my cunt for the pleasure of entering me again. The big sword pulled away from me, leaving an incredible sense of emptiness and longing. But Peter did not torture me for long. In another instant I felt the hot head of his stiff cock rubbing against my black pubic hair.
He rubbed his cock all over my cunt and groin and even the tops of my thighs. Jeff had whipped me with his cock and Peter was using his to caress me. It wasn't just that Peter was young, although that had great importance to me. It was that we loved each other and our bodies and souls were in harmony.
As good as it felt to have Peter's prick sliding all over my twat, it was a million times better when he entered me again. I felt the thick head of his cock pushing my labia apart and then it was easing into me. I held still again, wanting to enjoy the experience to the fullest, every second of it.
Soon Peter was all the way inside me again, stepping up the pace of our lovemaking. His strokes became harder and more urgent and there was less of an element of play in his technique. That fit my mood perfectly. I could feel my orgasm creeping up on me and knew I couldn't hold back my passion much longer.
I moved with Peter, sucking his cock deep into my twat with the action of my vaginal sphincters. I dug my ass deep into the mattress and churned my hips and midsection. I was using every muscle in my body, wriggling like a snake so that our skins were touching from our heads to our feet.
Peter was really socking it to me at that point. There was nothing subtle about his erotic technique. He was almost ready to come and wasn't holding back on his passion. His prick slammed into me and I could feel his balls slap against my body. I could hear him breathing hard and fast.
We fucked that way for an exhaustingly long time, neither of us slowing down at all. We were almost there, ready to come together, to end our first fuck since his return as well as it had started. I kissed Peter again, darting my tongue into his mouth, letting him now that we were in it together.
It was only a brief kiss since our bodies were heaving and grinding together. Peter's muscles were contracted and sometimes his weight was almost too much for me. I was sweating heavily and the whole room seemed filled with the odors of come and sweat and pussy juice. The sheet beneath me was similarly drenched, though I barely noticed that at the time.
Peter's body flopped on top of me, as if he were trying to transcend the laws of gravity. I had never been penetrated so deeply and I knew I was going to come. All the signs were there, the stiffness in my muscles, waves of heat passing through me body, the inability to keep my eyes open any longer.
"PETER, PETER, KEEP FUCKING ME," I shouted. "Yes, that's it, keep putting it in me. Deeper, DEEPER, I WANT ALL OF IT! Yes, make me come! Make me come! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
My orgasm began suddenly and violently, a series of spasms that left me weak and shaking. I could feel the fluids pouring out of my contracted pussy, soaking my labia and my lover's cock with a hot bath of come. Just as my third contraction began I could feel my lover coming with me.
That was really something, a mutual orgasm that seemed to last forever. It was like we were driving each other on, helping each other prolong the orgasmic moment until our bodies were ready to give out. I felt gallons of come washing into my pussy, mingling with my juices and filling my little bedroom with its smell.
We kept fucking long after our orgasms had ended, slowing down and grinding our bodies together. We were sweat-covered and exhausted but neither of us minded that. From that moment I was perfectly sure of Peter. I didn't have to ask him anything, didn't have to do anything but lie there with the boy I loved.
"Peter, are you going to stay the night?" I asked a few moments later. "I'd like you to but I don't think it's such a good idea. You're tired and your family would be worried if you stayed here for the whole night."
"I guess you're right," Peter conceded reluctantly. "But what I said before to you still goes. Next time we're together it's going to be for the whole night, no two ways about it."
Peter dressed himself quickly and then we kissed good-bye. Again, we didn't have much to say to each other unless we wanted to descend to trivialities. I listened to his car pulling away and then I got right back into bed, wanting to rest my body and give my mind a chance to start functioning again.
My thoughts were so pleasant and positive that it didn't take long for me to fall asleep. The situation was clear enough. Peter was back and we still wanted each other. Things would continue to be tough for us, but I had expected that all along. I slept like a log that night, right through my alarm clock's bell, but when I awoke to go to work I was almost unbearably happy, as if my life had begun all over again.
CHAPTER TEN
Most people have a tendency to over-dramatize their lives and to attach all sorts of cosmic significance to their experiences. I've always considered myself fairly free of that tendency, but in my case, the twists and turns of fate were so ironic as to sound like the tail end of a television soap opera.
In one week I plummeted from the pinnacle of happiness to the nadir of despair and the change occurred in a way that can only be described as ironic. Peter and I got to spend our night together but it turned out to be our last. I'll try to explain that as quickly and simply as possible.
Things seemed to be going swimmingly between Peter and myself. We met at work the next day and for the first time had lunch together, sharing our sandwiches in a public park. That might not sound like much, but it represented our first joint public appearance and it made us both very happy.
The next day Peter refused to have lunch with me, making some excuse about having to run an errand for his parents. I let it go, not thinking much about the incident. After all, the following night was going to be the big one, the night when we'd be. able to make love from sundown to sun-up.
Peter didn't show up for work that next day. I was worried but stopped myself from calling him at home. I simply finished my work day and went home, knowing that Peter would contact me sooner or later. Just after six, when the sun was beginning to sink out of sight, I saw Peter's car approaching from the main road.
He pulled up quickly and jumped out of the old convertible and then walked right past me into my house. His face was red and flushed and his eyes were staring straight ahead. His body seemed rigid with tension and you didn't have to be a genius to figure out that there was something wrong in the air.
"Tell me about it, Peter," I asked, after he had sat heavily on the sofa. "If it's bad news, just give it to me straight, and for God's sake, don't hold anything back from me."
"Sure, I can tell you in a minute," Peter answered in a choked and bitter voice. "We're moving, the whole family, just picking up and leaving. You see, Dad got a job in Pennsylvania, some big fucking deal. He says he can make twice as much money. So, we're moving next weekend, the whole family, me included."
"Are you sure he doesn't know about us?" I asked, suddenly paranoid. "Maybe he wants to get you away from me."
"That's the funny part," Peter snorted. "He knew I had a girl since you and me started fooling around but he doesn't know who you are. He took me aside and apologized for ruining my love life. Boy, he didn't know how right he was."
"We have to think about this," I said, probably sounding desperate. "Sit down and think it over rationally."
But, as Peter soon convinced me, there was nothing to think or talk about. The family was leaving and they were not going to let him stay behind. It would have been foolish even to ask. Peter had no reason besides myself to stay in Delford and that was the one thing he had to keep hidden from his family.
"Well, at least we get to spend the night together," he concluded, trying to hide his misery. "You wanted that all along. You still do, don't you?"
"I want you more than ever," I told Peter. "In a way it would be better if you could just disappear but I prefer it this way. I don't want you just sneaking out of my life."
We sat on the couch together for almost an hour and during that time exchanged fewer than a dozen sentences. Peter started to tell me about some of his summer experiences but his heart wasn't in it, to state the case mildly. And I no longer cared to tell him about my own past course of action.
The best thing would have been to hop right into bed but neither of us had to stomach for that yet. We took turns staring at each other and then allowed our eyes to meet. It was a deep penetrating staring session during which each of us tried to memorize the other's face, knowing we might never see each other again.
I had a brief period of fantasizing, inwardly creating a scenario wherein I would move east after a year, arrange a supposedly accidental meeting with Peter, and then we would start in all over again. But I couldn't keep that fantasy going. It was too far-fetched, not a real possibility at all.
I decided to put an end to our misery session by getting up and heading for the bedroom. It was early and we had all night before us but I knew inside that we'd need every minute of our allotted time. I wanted Peter to be naked beside me, wanted to feel him making love to me once more.
We stood facing each other as we undressed, again staring hard and long at the objects of our love. Peter had never seemed more handsome to me and I felt more sensual and receptive than ever before. I knew before we even got to bed that sorrow would not be a curb on Peter's virility.
We stood for a moment longer and then we got into bed, lying side by side but not touching each other. Finally, I broke the ice by pushing my body against Peter's and digging my head into his chest. I wasn't crying this time around but I didn't trust my ability to maintain emotional control indefinitely.
Peter responded immediately. He wrapped his arms around my back and shoulders and embraced me tightly, so that I could hardly breathe. Then he kissed me, lightly pressing his lips to mine and slowly forcing the tip of his tongue into my mouth. Needless to say, I did not resist him for a second.
Our bodies and minds and souls and every other aspect of our being was in harmony, just as it had always been. I sucked Peter's tongue and tasted more sharply than ever his boyish, unformed flavor. Both our bodies trembled in that long embrace but we maintained complete silence. There would be plenty of time to talk later, when our passion had been at least temporarily satiated.
Peter began to caress my body but it took a few moments before I could respond in kind. My fingers seemed paralyzed, though I had never wanted him more. Still, it felt good to have Peter's hand covering my breasts, felt his knowing fingers kneading my pink nipples into a state of taut erection.
He was careful and delicate only for a few seconds, which turned out good for both of us. With our emotions strained to the breaking point, what we needed was hot, hard, passionate sex. He lowered his head to my chest and sucked at my nipples, pulling hard as he drew them in turn into his hungry mouth.
Peter was on top of me but I found it easy enough to reach up with one arm and get my hand in the general area of his prick and balls. Soon I had grasped his tool firmly. He was already swollen but not hard yet, needing the pressures of my experienced fingers to bring him all the way to sexual readiness.
I ran my fingertips up and down that gorgeous male organ, feeling it stiffen in a matter of seconds. Then I tightened my grip just under his glans, turning Peter's prick a dark purplish color. All the while he continued sucking my tits, causing me to squirm beneath him as we got ready to fuck.
Peter's hand moved down to my pussy, which was already wide open and dripping. His index finger parted my labia and penetrated me easily. I could feel my vaginal muscles rippling around the intruding digit and I continued to work on Peter's bulging rod. It was a cool night and the exposed parts of my body were covered with traces of gooseflesh.
But Peter's body radiated heat as he moved on top of me. He forced a second finger into my snatch and I pulled downward on his prick, trying to force it after his finger. Understanding me, Peter cut short my agony of suspense. His fingers slid away and then I could feel his cock starting to enter me.
Peter went in quickly, giving me the full seven inches in a single, rapid thrust. His body was trembling and his face was rigid. He was not relaxed yet, was hiding his emotions. But I knew my pussy would make him feel better, that he would soon be fucking me as skillfully as ever.
"That's it, darling, you're not hurting me," I coaxed him. "Shove it in all the way again, harder. My cunt's nice and tight isn't it? It feels good to have your prick inside me?"
Because of my words or for whatever other reason, Peter got into fucking me right away. He pulled his cock back and then thrust it into my cunt again, good and hard. His full weight was on top of me, with only a film of sweat separating the length of our bodies. My cunt was watering copiously around his prodding prick, coating it with a shiny patina of love juice.
"I love you, I love you so fucking much," Peter chanted as he fucked me. "I need you, Margot, I love you, I love you."
I closed my ears to Peter's words. I didn't want to hear any more about love. My passion was fully aroused and it wasn't going to take long for me to come. I concentrated .on my pleasure and the pleasure I was giving Peter. He seemed not much further from shooting his wad than I was.
I moved with my lover, letting him direct the course and rhythm of our lovemaking but adding to it with movements of my own. My ass tightened against the mattress and I was able to churn my hips below Peter's midsection, tightening the inside of my pussy around his steadily stroking prick.
It's impossible to describe how good it felt to have him fucking me, to have that huge, irresistible prick slamming deep into my starving twat. I writhed my body against Peter, tightening my arms and legs. I was curled up around my lover now like an octopus, making it hard for him to move.
But Peter was too strong to be controlled for long. He shrugged his shoulders to break my arms' grip and then forced me down onto my back with my thighs spread far apart. He began to fuck me harder and faster, nailing me to the mattress, sending shock waves of lust through my sweating body.
The room was already filled with the odors of our bodies, sweat and pussy and juice and God knows what else. I closed my eyes and relaxed for a few minutes, abandoning myself completely to Peter's impassioned thrusts. He wanted me to come but there was nothing subtle in his approach. Sheer force, the power of incessant thrusts was enough to bring me over the verge.
I felt my orgasm starting slowly and then hurtling forward, an explosion of pleasure that grew to almost intolerable heights. My cunt closed down around Peter's prick and then it was happening to me. My moment of release had come. My body could stand no more stimulation. I was starting my orgasm.
"PETER, PETER, I'M CUMING," I shouted, my mouth just inches from my lover's ear. "Yes, fuck me, fuck me harder, keep fucking me with your big fat prick. OOOOOOHHHHHH, I love the way that feels. AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Peter probably didn't hear what I was saying. His face was still rigid and without expression but his skin was flushed and his muscles were getting taut. His arms were like steel bands, holding me in position for the rest of my orgasm. I felt my contractions diminish and still he was fucking me, ramming his huge prick into my cunt, wetter now and easier to penetrate.
I moved with Peter again, but much more slowly than before, just enough to drive his passion a little higher. He seemed totally transfixed by lust, treating me as a receptacle for his burning prick, probably not knowing consciously who I was. In all our evenings together he had never fucked me that violently.
No man could have kept up that pace for long, certainly not a passionate youth like Peter. His breath came out as a loud rasp and then he drove into me one last time, hurting me with the depth and force of his penetration. But I could feel him starting to come, starting to shoot his wad inside me.
It was an incredibly powerful orgasm, an eruption of lust that reminded me of some vast force of nature, like an earthquake or hurricane. The hot lather poured into my pussy, streams of bubbling come. I felt it slosh around inside me and then come pouring out, soaking my groin and thigh tops.
Peter collapsed on top of me and we lay together for a while as his prick went soft in the deepest recess of my pussy. He slid out of me after that but we maintained our position. A lot of energy had gone into our fucking but neither of us was really tired. We were gathering our strength, getting ready for more.
And for the next three hours we fucked almost without surcease as if trying to transcend the physical limitations of our bodies. I honestly can't remember how many times I came or how often Peter shot his load inside me, but I know that each act of passion aroused us all the more, spurred us to new heights.
At some point in the night we fell asleep, all tangled up together with sheets and pillows ringing the bed. I opened my eyes and saw that the sun was starting to come up. Peter would be leaving within an hour to help his family pack. He looked very beautiful with his eyes closed but I knew that I had to have him once more before allowing the boy to walk out of my life.
I leaned on my side and ran my tongue along Peter's prick, gently enough not to wake him but with enough passion to turn him hard. He stirred for a second as I swallowed his rod but it was not until he was fully erect that Peter opened his eyes and stared, first at me and then at the rising sun.
I kept blowing him, taking more of my darling's prick in with every downward motion of my bobbing head. He reached down to stroke my hair just as I had downed his seven inches completely. We held that pose for a moment and then Peter grew impatient. A blowjob was fine but what he really wanted was to fuck me.
He pushed my head away and I saw that his cock was swimming in saliva, hard as a rock and ready for action. I rolled over onto my back and smiled up at Peter as he mounted me. Despite all the fucking we'd already done, Peter was hot as a firecracker and could hardly wait to get his cock into my quim again.
He guided his stiff prick home with a strong right hand and entered me fully with a single stroke. My arms surrounded his back and I hooked my heels behind his calves, at the same time pressing a kiss to his slightly swollen lips. I felt him moving inside me, stirring me as if I were a bowl of warm soup and his prick a huge, fleshy ladle. Our last fuck had begun.
Peter moved rather quickly at first, as if afraid of losing his erection. I could see a few tears welling in his bright blue eyes but otherwise he betrayed no emotion. I tried not to think of his impending departure, concentrating instead on the feel of his thick cock as it slid in and out of my pussy.
I felt my cunt muscles tightening around his prick and then we were able to move together more calmly and naturally. Neither of us wanted to over-dramatize our last fling but it was impossible to be altogether casual about it. I wanted the whole experience to be stamped indelibly in my mind, wanted it to be there in my memory for the months of loneliness that would begin that very day.
Peter plunged his tongue deep into my mouth and I could taste my own pussy juice, along with his sweat and a pint of semen. My buttocks, despite being pressed to the mattress beneath me, moved seemingly of their own accord, loosening and contracting, changing the shape of my cunt. Neither of us was anywhere near coming yet but we both felt a growing, painful sense of urgency.
Soon I could feel the juices leaking out of my pussy. I was a bottomless pit that night and morning, a never-ending reservoir of love's secretions. And Peter continued fucking me hard, touching my womb with each of his inward thrusts. His breathing was slow and regular now, a sign that he had recovered his poise.
Peter varied his strokes for the next few minutes, rehearsing his entire sexual repertoire. He kept just the head of his prick inside me at first, widening my aperture and occasionally pulling all the way out of me so that he could rub the head of his rod against my stiff, bright red clitoris.
Then he plunged all the way inside me again, bouncing his body up and down from the midsection but never allowing his prick to withdraw so much as an inch from my clinging twat. I reached down and took hold of his balls, first letting them rest on my palm and then clenching them with my fingers.
Peter seemed to like that. I heard him laugh softly and then he began to fuck me with short, quick strokes. I wiggled my ass and moved my hips from side to side as he entered me until my cunt was sore from the friction his cock was creating. But my body didn't let me down at that crucial moment. Another stream of love juice poured out of my pussy, providing all the lubrication we needed.
"Fuck me in the ass," I whispered to my young lover. "I want to feel you there once more. Please, Peter, put it in my ass."
"But I don't want to come there," Peter protested softly. "All right, I'll do it but just for a minute. I want to come in your pussy, Margot. I want that to be the last thing we do together."
As ever, Peter and I were in perfect accord. I didn't want him to finish our last fuck by coming in my ass-hole but I definitely wanted to feel him there for a least a few moments. I leaned further back as his prick pulled away from me, tilting my body so that my ass-hole presented a target Peter couldn't miss.
There was no need to lubricate my tightest orifice. That had already been taken care of, thanks to the never-ending flow of my vaginal secretions. My ass-hole was open and wet as Peter pushed the head of his cock against it. Thick as he was, I knew from past experience that I could take every inch of his rod.
I placed my legs on Peter's shoulders, drawing his body closer to me and widening my ass-hole. He slid in easily, first the thick head and then the curved, swollen shaft. I felt my lover penetrate me to the hilt, heard him grunt with pleasure as he felt the tight clinging membranes of my anal orifice.
Peter corn-holed me for a good long time, fucking me every bit as hard as when he had been inside my pussy. Curled up and bent over as I was, I still loved every minute of our ass-fuck. My passion didn't diminish an iota. In fact, having his cock in my ass-hole brought me even closer to orgasm.
I squeezed my anal sphincters around Peter's cock, giving my young lover the ride of his life. His face and body were covered with sweat and I could see that he was going to come soon. I couldn't let him do that yet. We had to come together and I was not quite there yet. I told Peter to fuck my pussy again, which he did after one last, lingering probe into my bunghole.
I lay flat on my back again and it took only seconds for Peter to jam his thick, palpitating cock back into my open pussy. I gasped aloud as he entered me, knowing that we were entering the final phase. My orgasm was starting to sneak up on me and I could tell that Peter was himself almost ready to fly.
His prick slammed into me harder and harder, almost to the point of pain. But I loved feeling him slipping deeper inside me, loved the way he was losing control of himself. Peter was like a wild animal now, sweating and salivating, pounding his manhood into me until the final orgasmic moment.
I put everything I had into the last few minutes of our fuck. My body had never felt so lithe and healthy and young. I seemed to have perfect control over my muscles and each part of my body had its part to play in building my passion. I ground against Peter, pulled away from him, embraced his slender body with more strength than I had ever known myself to possess.
"It's so beautiful," Peter whispered. "I'm going crazy, I'll never find anyone like you to fuck. Ooooooohhhhhh, that feels so good when you make it tight. Come, Margot, let me feel you come."
"Not yet, not yet," I struggled, still grinding my body against him but fighting my orgasm desperately. "Not yet."
My mind was now a complete blank. I couldn't see two feet ahead of me, couldn't hear, couldn't feel anything but Peter's prick pounding in and slowly drawing out of my overloaded pussy. I tensed my muscles and held back on my explosion. I wouldn't let myself come until he was ready to come with me.
Peter slid both his hands under my buttocks, holding me tight against his body and keeping his prick buried to the hilt inside my quivering twat. My arms were around his back and my legs bent slightly, as he lifted me off the mattress. All his weight was behind his prick now, it was as if he were trying to force his entire body into the willing receptacle of my cunt.
My nipples were hard and tight against the scant hairs on Peter's chest. Although my orgasm was approaching, mentally I was coming back to myself. I knew where I was, what was happening, who I was with again. And from then on sadness was mingled with my pleasure, a sense of loss that was almost overwhelming.
Even that, the clear knowledge that Peter was indeed leaving me, didn't slow me down. I grasped his prick with my cunt muscles and I guess I really wanted to tear it off my young lover's body so that it would be inside me always. But Peter was still fucking me, getting stronger as his passion came to a head.
And then I felt him coming, finally losing control altogether over his raging passion. His prick bucked and jerked inside me and he thrust once more with his hips. Then Peter kept his prick deep in my cunt and let it explode, sending long thick ropes of sticky come into my body.
At that very instant, I felt my own climax begin. My body got hot and dry and then my cunt contracted as much as it could around Peter's spurting male organ. I must have been crying again because I couldn't see, even though I was trying to stare into Peter's eyes at the moment of total culmination.
"PETER, PETER, PETER, I'm coming," I shouted. "Yes, I can feel you, all the way inside me. Yes, yes, you're making me come. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH. Peter, please don't stop, let me come once more, one more time. Ooooooooooh, fuck, that's it, just shove it in once more. AAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIII!! ! ! ! ! "
Peter screamed his passion aloud with me and our orgasms fed upon each other until our bodies were drained and exhausted. We lay down together for a few minutes and I was light-headed, giddy, nervous despite my physical exhaustion. But by the time Peter had begun to dress himself, moving very slowly and not saying a word, I had calmed down reasonably well.
We made our farewells short, promising to stay in touch with each other if that turned out to be at all possible. I couldn't pretend that I expected ever to see Peter again, but I knew that if there was the slightest chance he would take it. And he would know that I'd be waiting for him, receptive as ever.
When Peter left, I neither cried nor attempted to go back to sleep. I wanted things to be clear in my mind. I tried to minimize my feelings and sentiments and think about things logically. Later on I was bound to go through periods of pain and confusion, but for now I wanted to be sharp and in control of myself.
My life had begun at forty and there was no reason to assume that it was going to end with Peter's departure. He was not going to be easy to replace, and in fact, I was not at all sure that I'd ever be happy with another man or boy, but that was no reason for me to withdraw from the chances and competitions of real life.
I had wasted most of the first half of my life and that was a mistake that I wouldn't repeat, no matter how much trouble and heartache came my way. Peter had taught me to love again, to develop my full potential as a woman. It would be a betrayal of his love for me to give up and resign myself to loneliness.
And in the next four months I did push myself. I was vigilant against all signs of resignation, any impulse to give up on life. My situation was not ideal, being alone in a small town and dependent on a mediocre job, but it was a situation of my own making. It was all I had to work with and whatever triumphs I could wring from life would only be magnified by adversity.
But this is no time to describe the ways in which I learned to cope with Peter's departure. Basically, I followed the path that he had set me on, a path that took me in strange and sometimes frightening directions. And it would take another book to describe all the details of my adventures over the next few months, a book that I will someday try to write.
