John got on his back and stretched his arms, just as I had ordered him. I manacled one wrist, slipped the chain around the grill of my bedpost, then manacled the other wrists. John looked appetizingly subdued. As his knee went up, I watched the sinew shift in his thigh. He resembled a wild animal recently brought into captivity.
The most notable aspect was his upright cock. It stood in the air, anxious for me to have a seat. Although sheathed by a condom, I wanted to experience that 21-year-old dick within my 40-year-old snatch.
I climbed into his saddle and lowered my pussy. "Fuck me," I ordered. "Fuck me and make me cum!"
CHAPTER ONE
I, Barbara Moore, excelled at teasing men. I received most of my inspiration at work. Employed by a phone sex company, Fantasy Hotline, I obtained the best training available. My body language, dialogue-even flirtatious stares-was borrowed from professional operators. I did not, however, cajole customers into revealing their fantasies. Manning the switchboard, I connected them to the sexually conversant women on duty (after securing credit card information and ascertaining particulars).
My outlet for the erotic education I received was Spencer's, the bar I frequented. I lived for Friday nights. I could dress provocatively, spout suggestive phrases, and cause a general disturbance. The heads of men craned in my direction, seeking eye contact. Depending on my inclination, I either encouraged or mocked those who sought my attention.
Flirting had not been my practice five years earlier, when I had a live-in boyfriend, Tim. I was perfectly content assuming the chores of cooking, cleaning and washing clothes. Life had been a mundane affair at my one-bedroom apartment, but I accepted it. Tim, a perennial student boning up on every subject that caught his fancy, suffered a lack of confidence. At forty-one, he couldn't seem to snap out of that emotional slump. His postponement of a career-any career-became an explosive issue. He constantly changed his curriculum, much to my chagrin. Eventually, he moved out on his own, where he wasn't subject to my observable disenchantment.
Unwilling to invest my prime years with another underachiever, I settled for a weekly ritual of bar hopping and trifling. Ogling men over a beer became my pastime-in addition to gossiping with my girlfriends and playing pinball.
Of Irish origin, I stood at a medium height, had light brown hair and hazel eyes. Although my looks weren't of model quality, I underwent prolonged analysis by the regulars. My small waist accentuated the size of my tits. Low-cut blouses, or those unbuttoned to reveal eye popping cleavage, were generally worn. My heart-shaped ass, draped in skintight Levis (or, depending on my mood, leather) was endlessly studied and commented upon. I had notably trim legs and sculpted calves.
Few realized I had turned forty earlier in the year. I kept my age-along with other personal details-a secret. Dubious what label might be applied me, I hid my occupation. I preferred people to believe me a woman of erotic genius and stirring properties than a product of my environment.
A nondescript neighborhood haunt, Spencer's became my second home. It attracted colorful characters that collectively fashioned a vivid tapestry. My relationships with that group varied. I surveyed some from a distance, offering little interaction; others were drawn into my intimate circle.
My wildness surfaced only when among my drinking companions. At Fantasy Hotline, I listened to the women verbally stimulate their callers. Most of the time, I hustled at the keyboard, inserting data into the blank fields on my computer screen. Upon occasion, however, I caught wind of something hot an operator fed a caller. I would quiver in my seat, digesting the scene created. Ohhhhhhh. I reformatted those scenarios for later use, and scored major points pouring out that material to my friends at the bar.
At Spencer's, my transformation from a shy receptionist to vixen was complete.
Mind games were my favorite form of play.
Instilling sizzling notions in men's heads animated me. I loved to tantalize. I wanted men to want me. Witnessing their libidos flourish was, in my evaluation, the highest compliment.
Unfortunately, I read into everything. I hung onto every phrase, every gesture, every sidelong glance-then dissected and reassembled it in my mind. I was an impressionable soul who tormented myself for days afterward trying to decipher someone's intentions. Overblown conclusions were frequently drawn. Externally, I was delightfully brazen-internally, painfully insecure.
Those who knew me best thought me sensitive and caring-a person with a heart of gold.
Of my clique, Michael and John received the lion's share of my attention. They visited Spencer's nearly as often as I, hailing from similar backgrounds. I purposely regaled them with my most entertaining adventures, if only to spur their imaginations. Toying with them became a compulsion. The sexual tension at Spencer's mounted when all three of us were present.
Since I set the precedent, neither man revealed much about his field of work. Both let it suffice that they were gainfully employed, as evidenced by the rounds of drinks for which they alternately paid.
I was ambivalent about taking their baiting at face value, or whether to shrug it off. Michael and John savored the stimulating dialogue, the lustful camaraderie. They constantly excited me with their provocative exchange and meaningful glances. In the back of my mind, I questioned their sincerity. None of the other male patrons, to a like degree, titillated me.
In years, they were chronologically behind me. Michael, I guessed, was thirty-two. Tall, sandy-haired and blue-eyed, Michael was part Puerto Rican and part Korean. His exotic features enthralled me. I scarcely masked the waves of desire that flowed through my body when gazing at him. Neither, I discerned, could the surrounding women. Michael enjoyed notoriety among the reckless.
He typified the nonchalant male. Few things raised his ire. Spiritually, he was on an even keel. He took things in stride. Women considered his calm reserve enticing. He brandished winks to those he deemed luscious.
Depending on my choice of attire, I warranted several. If I wore my black leotard and formfitting jeans, Michael would devote his full concentration. If I attached my handcuffs, a wicked grin appeared.
I had a fixation for handcuffs and an itch for bondage. That predilection had not manifested until after Tim left. I wore my shackles like ornaments, slipping them through the loop of my jeans-but never formally used them. I feared a dominant nature that existed below my surface; utilizing those manacles could bring about a shocking revelation.
Michael found little more than amusement in my handcuffs. I wondered if my facade were that transparent. Michael seemed perceptive, despite the carefree attitude he adopted.
His noncommittal personality excited me. Michael instigated my wanton behavior. I reckoned a sexual encounter with that man would be indescribable-a ten on the Richter scale. My hormones were on constant alert whenever he came near.
No matter how profoundly I ached for him, I realized that should I surrender to him, it would amount to a one-night stand. Wise to his womanizing ways, I shrugged off his recurring invitations. Michael had dozens of girlfriends, but none which seemed important. He strung them along, took what he could get, then systematically disposed of them.
John had turned twenty-one and joined the beer-slinging set only months before. Fiercely Italian and a notch shorter than Michael, he possessed a striking virility-along with a flash temper. He donned black T-shirts, tattered jeans and wore a bandanna tied to his head. In colder weather, he added a beaten leather jacket to his guise. Physically, he resembled a biker. I drooled over him whenever he looked away.
Dark-haired, brooding, extremely passionate-those words depicted John in a nutshell. Emotionally, he was the flipside of Michael. One could never gauge his sudden flare-ups, his attacks of jealousy. His mercury rose at the slightest inflection. John settled arguments with his fists rather than verbally smoothing out the wrinkles. He was known to punch holes in walls.
I found him to be extremely possessive. Rancor burned through him like a struck match. Timidity was another intriguing facet. He often found it difficult to convey his feelings to a girl he liked. His vocal expressions did not translate well. He bungled his way through a conversation and obtained a lukewarm reception. John had not been blessed with the gift of gab. He elected to drink in silence with his friends, rather than participate in a discussion.
Women at Spencer's were magnetized by his toned physique, his intense study, his volatile manner-yet cautiously approached him. Given his manner of dress, many assumed he embraced rough sex as a form of relaxation.
I never explored that possibility with him. Although I designed elaborate fantasies that revolved around seducing him, I lacked the courage to bring them to fruition. Though sexually minded, I invariably lost nerve.
John surreptitiously stared at me-almost to the point of falling off his stool. Lust sparked from his dark eyes, yet he failed to follow it through. I acknowledged his longing, but expected him to take the initiative.
Naturally, nothing happened.
After ridding myself of Tim and his insecure ways, I craved a fling with a younger man. Consummating such an event afforded the reassurance that my magnetism was intact. In retrospect, I judged my affair with Tim a wasted period. I resolved never to repeat that mistake.
I was unsure how men interpreted the milestone of forty. Did they consider women "over the hill," or were their minds open to the endless possibilities? I thought my age imperceptible. My skin retained its resilience. My stylish wardrobe of T-shirts, jeans and faddish paraphernalia helped maintain the illusion. Though unafraid of people learning my age, I did nothing to speed their enlightenment.
I firmly believed that older women offered more fireworks in the bedroom. First, we had years of valuable experience. We had also entered our sexual prime. Getting laid preempted our minds.
I knew how to pinpoint a man's erogenous zones quickly, and drive him through the roof. Orally, I was an artist; sucking cock was my specialty. I loved to deep-throat, regardless of size. If my partner proved large, I simply took more time with him.
I made quite a ceremony of swallowing. The way I drank cum was a visual treat. My lips went slack at the point of climax so that the jism escaped from the corners. I receded an inch so that more of that gushing discharge showed. Before a mess could develop, I reattached myself to the spurting cock and milked every drop.
Tim had no complaint of my erotic talents. I thoroughly pleased my live-in boyfriend during our relationship. I suspected after making our adieus, he missed the sex.
I banished Tim from my mind as quickly as his memory flickered. He belonged to an unfulfilling past-a blackout period in which I clung to a dream of marriage, children and financial security. Having relinquished that aspiration, I lived for today. The prospect of recapturing the fire that once drove me made all the difference.
Michael and John kept me firmly established in the present. The stage for a delicious triangle had been lit. Although I kept tabs on the fresh talent walking through the door of Spencer's, Michael and John overshadowed their competition. I was obsessed with them. One would eventually become my destiny. When Friday night rolled around, my heart was pounding. I could scarcely wait for eleven o'clock, when the air crackled and the conditions were ripe for fantasy.
Invariably, I returned home at the end of the evening, cursing myself for not having brought one of them home. Sooner or later, I would connect with either Michael or John for a night of unparalleled ecstasy. Each time, the urge to lose control grew stronger.
Oh, God. Who would pull my trigger first?
I reviewed the accuracy of my input from the last customer. My eyes skittered across the populated fields, checking for typographical errors. In the midst of proofreading, Justine's silky voice pierced my concentration. Justine, I assumed, had been hired specifically for her honey-laced articulation. Slurred syllables were her trademark.
"Are you lonesome, baby?" she sassed into the receiver. "Don't worry. Let me keep you warm and tingly. Mmmmmmmmm. What have you got on your mind? Don't be shy. I love an outspoken man."
I attempted to ignore her seductive welcome, if only to maintain my concentration. Justine's work station neighbored mine, negating that option. I often became drawn into her conversations because of the logistics. Justine loved giving her callers a hard-on; inducing them to masturbate was part of the job.
Justine titillated and provoked like no other operator. She gave excellent phone sex. Relaxing in her adjustable chair, she undid the top buttons of her blouse and let her head sag to one side. Justine had dark, flashing eyes, fuchsia-painted lips and a sleek body. She described herself as curvaceous to her repeat customers-a definite fabrication. Her pitch-black hair lightly brushed her bare shoulders. She often caressed herself throughout the call. Settling in an aroused frame of mind, she conjured exciting visions for her rapt listeners. Justine was quite inventive. She also bolstered men's confidence level. When Justine was finished with someone, he truly believed he was an extraordinary lover.
Justine's erotic dissertations often spilled over to the people I talked with on my headset. The rule of thought was that eavesdropping improved sales. Subscribers of Fantasy Hotline thirsted for those hot previews-by that, influencing them to rack up the minutes on the line. That translated into big bucks for Dominique, my boss.
"I'll bet you've got a nice, big cock," Justine murmured, shifting in her seat. "How can I tell?
Oh, you've got that deep, manly voice. Do you know how to use it, baby? It takes a great deal of talent to operate such fine machinery."
John and Michael drifted into my mind. They claimed to be well-endowed, too. I giggled at the invitations to check out their equipment. Michael, in particular, deliberately brushed against my hand when we played pinball. Although I had no clue to his size, something hard made contact.
John, typically, attempted nothing of the sort. He copied Michael's remarks, but refrained from such demonstrations of boldness. He begrudged Michael's casual attitude and self-assurance.
"Sure, I love to suck cock," Justine went on. "It's fun, and tastes good. Mmmmmmmmmmm. I wish my mouth were on yours this very minute. I'd lick you slowly, sliding my tongue up and down that thing. Watching a guy pop a boner turns me on. Of course, I help it get big. Can you guess where I start? With the large vein that runs the length of your cock. Uh-huh. I lap that area until it drips with my spit. Then I take the head in my mouth. While sucking it, I circle the cumhole with my tip. Sometimes, I collect a little drop of its salty treat. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. By then, that cock is completely swollen-ready to enjoy."
I glimpsed Justine's tits through her diaphanous blouse. The nipples protruded, stiff with excitement. My associate usually functioned in a state of constant arousal. Constructing those sizzling scenarios took their toll on her. Justine became deeply involved in spinning her fantasies.
"Is it standing up? Oh?" A smile grew on Justine's lips. "Hearing that makes me wet. You're getting me horny. Mmmmmmm. Want me to put my finger on it? You do, huh. Okay, baby." She had hiked her skirt. Barbara saw Justine's descend into her panties. "Tell me what you'd like to do to me."
Devoid of shame, Justine masturbated. Modest, she wasn't. At $I.95 per minute, a paying customer expected genuine passion. Justine made certain her callers got their money's worth. She centered upon the things told her. His description left her panting. Justine glowed with satisfaction as he fed her the explicit details.
Accustomed to such behavior, I scarcely took notice. In the beginning, the operators shocked me with their outbursts; now, I viewed it as old hat. Upon occasion, the graphic language fanned the flames of my deep-seated yearning. That elusive night of uninhibited splendor with either Michael or John tormented me.
Even in close quarters, Justine maintained her focus. Her gaze rarely wandered to me. She worked intently with her clients, guiding them from start to finish. I comprehended exactly how close someone was to orgasm merely from the change in her voice.
"You want to put that big cock in me, don't you?" she croaked. Her finger moved behind the silk panel of those panties. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yeah. I'd sure love it if you could reach deep in me-where you would do me the most good. Oh, yeah, baby, my pussy is tight. I would enjoy squeezing you with it. Uh-huh. I'd rub up and down that big dick of yours, making it juicy. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I'd give you a whole lot of snatch-more than you could handle. Can you get it up three times in one night? What? More? Ohhhhhhh, baby, I want you here."
Slick sounds of pussy and finger making contact emanated from Justine. In the background, within various situated cubicles, other operators threw themselves into the job. Squeals of joy erupted. A cacophony or orgasmic screams soared. Erotic verbiage peppered their whispered remarks. They adopted Dominique's golden rule: "Whatever it takes to get him off."
The prospect of going to the bar that night thrilled me. The girls consistently got me in mood for some sexual thrust and parry with Michael and John.
I received the distinct impression that before the night was through, something delicious would happen.
CHAPTER TWO
I whipped my hair over my shoulder and made a critical assessment in the mirror. Hmmmmmm. John might drool, but Michael would probably reserve his opinion. He wasn't given to bursts of flattery. At any rate, I donned a T-shirt a size smaller than would have been comfortable (but which forced my nipples to protrude) and a pair of jeans that pulled my cunt lips apart. I favored tight, formfitting clothes-they were far more eye-catching.
Besides, I had the body to support the message I wished to broadcast.
What pleased me most was that I hardly looked forty. Even if I hadn't the benefit of Spencer's subdued lighting, I looked ten years younger. I attributed that freshness to my Irish ancestry. My skin glowed with vitality.
The doorbell rang, cutting short my evaluation. I strutted to the door, prepared to give my caller a testosterone rush. I effected a posture that was sure to bring his heartbeat to its target rate when turning the knob and swinging back the door. Richie's jaw dropped. "Jesus."
"Do you like it?"
"I'll say." He let out a whistle. "Shit. You're going to make it bend in their pants."
I offered my drinking chum a wicked smile. "That's my intent."
I had taken Richie into my confidence about John and Michael. I hid nothing from him. He even knew of my Achilles' heel: my neck. I related how quickly my will power waned when someone pressed his mouth to it. Richie smugly took note. Although Richie has honored my secrets, one recurrently made the rounds at the bar. Certain individuals entered into a discussion about my "hot spot"-namely Richie, Michael and John. Needless to say, I was unhappy about this.
Richie and I, both forty, lived in the same neighborhood most of our lives. Neither of us confessed to harboring sexual feelings for one another, so jointly visiting the local haunts seemed a brilliant idea. Besides, Richie drove. Other than the bus, I had no other means of transportation. Richie delivered me safely to my door, regardless of the late hour.
Richie-blond and blue-eyed with appealing Germanic looks-had a swimmer's body. His wide shoulders and developed chest tapered to a small waist. Though I had no romantic designs on Richie, I thought him physically attractive. I dubbed him the brother I never had; Richie claimed a like sentiment.
When he and I first went to Spencer's, most people automatically assumed we were intimate. The regulars eventually understood our close friendship, but some could not be convinced otherwise.
An unpleasant thought popped in my head. "I hope they're there," I fretted. "Occasionally, one of them is missing."
Richie shook his head. "Stop worrying. You'll have them both to torment."
"You really think so?"
He nodded. "I bumped into Michael on the street this afternoon. He assured me he was coming. As for John, I saw him grabbing a bite to eat at the pizza place across the street."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I purchased a few sundry items in the event I have some overnight company: a can of whipped cream, an extra bag of ice, a package of scented candles, and some strawberry-flavored rubbers."
"Sounds like you've got your bases covered."
I shrugged. "A girl can never be too prepared."
The crowd at Spencer's began to gather at ten thirty. I made my usual eleven o'clock entrance. I savored the turning of heads when the door opened. With eyes leveled in my direction, I flounced for my audience. Temporarily, I commanded center stage. The next person to arrive would steal the spotlight; for the moment, I relished their scrutiny.
Kevin, the bartender, waved. Richie nodded to him.
Michael was parked in front of the pinball machine, trying his luck. One of the few to resist checking out the latest arrival, he smacked the buttons. I watched his tight, blue jean-clad buns jerk as he navigated the steel ball.
"Get me a beer," I told Richie.
He grinned. "Go easy." My fixation with Michael's butt was common knowledge. I publicly declared my enjoyment of his "cute ass."
"I'm known to be easy-but never cheap."
That rear view of Michael made my mouth water. His studly frame hastened my pulse. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Many nights, I had attempted to picture him without clothes. That effort generally resulted in masturbation. I couldn't digest the assumption of his undraped flesh without fingering my clit.
Sneaking behind Michael, I gave him a pinch. My customary welcome did not ruin his concentration. Auburn hair bordered his cocky expression. "Hi, doll. Want to play?"
I leaned against the side of the machine. "My place or yours?"
A smile tugged at his lips. "Why not right here?"
"Keep dreaming." I delved into my pocket and produced a quarter. "Want to put it in-or shall I?"
Michael swerved his hips in my direction. He arranged his crotch dangerously close to the coin slot. I giggled at the challenge he proposed. If I attempted to deposit my quarter, I risked brushing against his privates.
"Dare me?" I whispered.
A grin spread across his face. "Go for it."
Michael had publicized his dislike of underwear and went to Spencer's minus them. Without that layer of material, his equipment was prone to movement. It shifted when he walked, and often took shape. I nearly broke into a sweat, contemplating the grazing of that section.
Richie spared me the embarrassment. He shoved the mug into my hand. "Here's your beer."
I sipped it suggestively, scooping the foam with my tongue. "Mmmmmmmmm. That's nice. Not as good as the real thing, mind you, but nice."
"I know where you can get the real thing," a familiar voice rang. "I'll even lead you there by hand."
I spun on my heel and gazed into John's dark, sexy eyes. Ohhhhhhhhhh. John's rugged looks jolted my senses. The secured bandanna hid his dark, curly hair. He wore a tank top that perfectly illustrated his developed chest and flat stomach. I barely kept my hands off those grapefruit-sized biceps-their firmness excited me. Weightlifting was incorporated in his exercise routine. The rest of him was marvelously packaged.
I recovered quickly from his pun. John's hips were thrown forward, as though taking the gamble that I might grope him. "Let's leave my hand out of it."
John feigned disappointment. "But, babe, there's so much ground to cover."
"She'll probably need a map to find it," Michael quipped, loading the pinball machine with a fresh quarter.
"Fuck you," John snapped.
"Only in your dreams, pal."
John spoke a decibel higher. "Think you're the only dude here that can score some pussy? I'll bet your hand sees more action." The muscles of his upper chest quivered. He balled his fist, preparing to make use of it.
Michael, oblivious to the tension, merely operated the buttons and sent the metal ball on its bulb-flashing, electronic-clinking journey. Never once did he seem remorseful for overstepping his bounds.
"Hey," Richie interceded. He blocked John from taking a swipe at him. "Cool down. You'll get your ass bounced out of here. Kevin doesn't tolerate fights."
John slammed into his palm. We heard that smack over the bar's din.
Michael, undaunted, released the left button and grabbed a handful of my ass. I giggled. "Go easy on the merchandise, baby. Don't bruise the goods."
"Your turn." He dragged me over the machine. "What do you want to play for? Name your stakes."
I gave it some thought. "How about: winner receives two hours of slave service."
His eyes swept me up and down. "Hmmmmmm. A prize worth claiming."
His surveillance gave me the shivers. My panties involuntarily dampened. Michael had me wrapped around his pinkie-and he knew it.
"Motherfucker," John spat, then retreated to a stool and observed us from a distance. Managing his anger wasn't his strong suit. Very much the hot-tempered Italian, he proceeded to belt down one beer after another. The alcohol content eventually diluted that rage, but at a snail's pace. John, a heavy drinker, had the constitution of an elephant. He watched us and stewed.
I became conscious of John's stare. His ferociously possessive gape burned a hole through my skin. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. His jealousy invigorated me. I loved being fought over. It might have been fun watching those two go head to head, but not at the expense of getting ostracized by Kevin. The burly bartender had no sense of humor when it came to barroom brawls.
Richie wandered to the jukebox, where a luscious redhead in a leather skirt intercepted him. She brushed him with a set of thirty-eight-inch knockers. Richie took the bait. They dawdled long after the last record finished playing.
Michael beat me at pinball, but neglected to exercise the terms of our agreement. I figured as much. He probably suspected I purposely threw the game, just to get his ass in bed-which wasn't far from the truth.
Whenever ordering another beer, I grazed John. As usual, he had no talent for small talk. He nodded at my few remarks while chugging his beer. Either he was opposed to saying something I would think stupid, or was much too plastered to contribute anything profound.
His lack of animation didn't stop me from ogling him. John had a hunky bod. Getting a closer look while "accidentally" skimming his thigh or arm was worth the periodic visit.
Though he returned none of my occasional contacts, the intensity of those dark brown eyes seized me. I could perceive his smoldering hunger. I steered my ass toward his hand, hoping he would grab it-but John's impertinence vanished. Instead, he took a swig from his mug.
Michael and I talked for a while about nothing in particular. He fancied simple, mindless conversation. Others joined us in discussion. Michael had a fascination for camping, boating, and motorcycles. None of those subjects engrossed me, yet Michael's masculine profile sustained my interest. I was woozy with want. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Not as physically developed as John, Michael had an athletic tone. He adhered to some form of a workout-evidenced by the respectable sinew his limbs boasted. Waves of desire flowed through me.
Michael's sporadic glances kept alive the hope for a midnight rendezvous. I often fantasized about Michael dragging me to the parking lot and fucking me in his back seat. Lust plainly stormed through him. His raw expressions, his rippling throat muscles, his lingering touch were not lost upon me. He wanted me.
Michael may have been concerned with image. At Spencer's, he was the easygoing stud. No woman got under his skin. His nonchalance won him a constant supply of pussy. The girls carelessly offered him snatch. Michael never looked a gift horse in the mouth.
With me, he declined. My invitations were almost submitted in suggestive form. I never came right out and told him to fuck me-I merely planted the seed in his manipulative brain. My regular use of innuendo drove him crazy, yet he refrained from acknowledging it.
By three-thirty, the crowd had thinned. Kevin announced last call. We ordered a final round of drinks. John had switched to shots of Jack Daniels. I pitied the condition of his liver. I thought it irresponsible for a twenty-one-year-old to punish his body in that fashion. He seemed to fare well from the shock of alcohol. His faculties appeared intact.
Richie offered a ride to his little redhead-or so he inferred. I assumed he was taking her back to his place for a screw. They exchanged meaningful glances.
The evening had not gone as I envisioned. Wearing seductive attire bought me some attention, but none that lasted. Everyone looked ready to call it a night and fall into bed.
Michael gulped his beer while completing a game of pool with a few cronies. His blue eyes were directed at the ball, not me. We'd had our magical moment. I would have to wait another week for my next shot at him.
Ohhhhhhhhhh. Fridays at Spencer's were much too short. They were eaten like a favorite candy bar: after taking that last savoring bite, only the wrapper remained. I would spend the next several days reexamining every word spoken, every glance devoted and make sense out of it. Was Michael really interested in me-or was it John?
I felt as though I were entertaining illusions of grandeur.
Richie and the redhead walked ahead. I trailed behind, waving good nights to my friends and Kevin. Michael offered a lukewarm farewell. John, rooted on the stool, had ostensibly passed into oblivion.
The night breeze revived me. Ohhhhhhhhh. It caressed my nipples and left goose flesh on my arms. Fresh air-after spending hours in that smoky haze-revived me.
Just as Richie pulled up to the curb and honked, I heard the shuffle of footsteps. John emerged from Spencer's, looking seven sheets to the wind. I couldn't imagine him finding his way home in such a state.
I stuck my head through the window. Richie and the redhead had gotten cozy. Draping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her toward him for a kiss. I cleared my throat, then nodded at John. "Think we could drop him off?"
"Sure," Richie mumbled without disengaging himself from the redhead.
I opened the door, then turned to John. Crooking a finger, I said, "Come here, You bad Boy."
A grin formed on his face. "I'm not a boy."
"Then, come here, you naughty man."
He heavily trudged over to the car. I thought he was going to fall flat on his face. John surprised me. He hopped into the back with little assistance. He threw his arm across the seat. With a smirk, I lowered myself into the spot beside him.
I expected John to pass out the second we took off. That proved not to be the case. He clamped my shoulder and pressed his thigh tightly to mine. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I panted from his crushing strength. He no longer seemed drunk, but horny.
I gazed at him. John steered me to his mouth. I'd never seen such a surge of boldness. John had been bashful about getting physical. He squeezed me to his solid frame. Those minutes unfolded like a dream.
Our lips came together. John's tongue suddenly filled my mouth. Ohhhhhhhh. I heatedly responded. John displayed not the slightest hesitation. If I ever fretted about being too old for him, I didn't that moment. He chased my tip, then wildly pushed against it. The taste of beer and whiskey flavored my palate. He contaminated my air supply, yet I wouldn't have pulled away for the world. I moaned with dizzying satisfaction.
John's hand closed over my tit. He palmed the stiff peak protruding through my T-shirt. I shivered as he trapped my erect nipple with his thumb and forefinger. His tweak produced a fabulous jolt.
After a stormy union, our lips detached. That initial kiss left me woozy. I dragged air into my lungs. John continued to lean on me, ready for more. The man was positively starved for it.
I noticed his dick was out of his pants. During our passionate embrace, he must have unbuttoned himself. Long and solid, his cock rose through the metal teeth of his zipper. John steered my hand to that thing, then wrapped my fingers around it. His shaft was alive with pulsation. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I could feel how excited he was-and that knowledge catapulted me.
I massaged him. No sooner did I effect a gratifying rhythm, John resumed devouring my lips. For a timorous man, he proved adept at kissing. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. The alcohol in his system fueled him with needed confidence.
I caught Richie's eyes spying on us through the rearview mirror. They registered astonishment at our frantically making out in his back seat. The hand that rested on the redhead's shoulder shook. He resisted turning around. The sobs coming from behind obviously distracted him, yet he maintained command of the wheel.
John gasped while I stroked him. Tall and thick, he throbbed in my fist. I could scarcely wait to get that cock in my mouth. Sucking a twenty-one-year-old to orgasm stoked the flames of my desire. I wanted him to shudder between my lips and spew his jism.
Before I realized what was happening, he yanked the tucked portion of my T-shirt from my jeans and exposed my tits. My erect nipples screamed for his mouth. John immediately provided that thrill. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. He sucked hard on one until stars twinkled before my eyes. His tongue circled, then flicked that rigid nub. Saliva oozed from the corner of his mouth.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh." John sent me to heaven. Containing my exhilaration proved impossible. Although I didn't want our rolling about in the back to get too obvious, I had no way of curbing the sounds that emerged. The air, heavy with lust and permeated with liquor fumes, became more difficult to breathe. I couldn't believe what was happening-and with whom.
Lightly clasping his dick, I managed to keep him stiff without making him cum. I didn't want him to shoot-at least, not in Richie's car. That eruption would occur at my place. Whether John realized it or not, he was spending the night.
We arrived at my building soon thereafter. Richie avoided the rearview mirror while I adjusted my T-shirt. Despite my age, I felt very much the naughty girl. He knew of my obsession to be with a younger man. John would consummate that fantasy.
Just as abruptly as he had taken it out, John stuffed his cock back in his pants and zipped them. Other than the tented shape at his crotch, I could have mistaken the entire incident for a dream.
"Want me to stop on my way back?" Richie quietly asked.
I appreciated his offer of chauffeur service after we were done. He probably figured John was good for one jump)-maybe two.
I was about to tell Richie to forget it-that he could hop a bus in the morning-but John muttered, "Come in about an hour and a half."
Richie contemplated John's lack of balance, then gave a look that seemed to suggest, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
I shrugged. The wisdom of bedding a twenty-one-year-old might have seemed incongruent. My body, for the moment, knew what it wanted; the rest of me unanimously agreed.
The redhead murmured something in Richie's ear. She obviously couldn't wait to be alone with him. I grinned. "See ya, Richie."
He waited until we were at the front door before pulling away.
We controlled ourselves while entering the building. The lobby was dark and deserted. Bumping into one of my neighbors at four o'clock in the morning was the last thing I wanted. Letting them watch me drag some young man into my apartment for sex might have raised a few brows.
An elevator waited to take us to my floor. "This way to paradise," I purred, hitting the button.
"Do you have protection?" he mumbled. I rubbed against him. "Mmmmmmmmmm. Sure do."
His arms came around me. He pressed his swollen cock to my mound. I ground against it. Ohhhhhhhhhh. He was ready. Oh, yeah. From that coarse friction, I gathered he wanted me to feel his excitement.
"Yeah," he groaned, dry-humping me. His grip on my buns tightened. There was no escape from his crushing urgency. I moaned, surrendering to it.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.
Oh, wow. That bone-hard thing was going to move the earth. That monster was loaded and geared for action. I'd be lucky to crawl away from it with my sanity intact.
John showed me something I hadn't known existed: a fiery passion that bubbled from within. I trembled from its volcanic rise.
We sucked face like crazy. I couldn't recall the last time I'd gotten laid. John appeared to be hurting for a piece of ass, too. He couldn't get enough of my lips-nor refrain from taking handfuls of my butt. I loved every slobbering second. He made me feel so fucking hot.
I couldn't keep my hands away from his dick. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I wanted to rip off his clothes and gaze at that beauty.
We eventually made it to my apartment, sweaty and out of our minds. John, between his kissing and groping, kept me in a pleasant fog. It took all the strength I could muster to recall where I had stored those rubbers.
"Can't wait, huh?" I said after prying myself from his arms. "Me, neither. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I'm going to wear you out."
He fell back into a chair and threw his legs apart. The sight of his bulge made me giddy. I fetched the package from a drawer, then knelt before him. Gripping the upholstered arms, he elevated himself so that his erection touched my face. I kissed that impressive outline. I detected the heat of his stiff cock.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm. We're going to have fun with it. But first, let's dress it." I broke the plastic and extracted one of the condoms.
"What's that?" he mumbled.
My lips curved. "No glove, no love."
He reflected momentary disappointment. Apparently, he wished to derive the benefits of tongue and mouth. With a twist of my fingers, I unbuttoned his pants. That anxious cock sprang from confinement, standing seven inches high. I exhaled warmly over its skin. Mmmmmm. He tried sticking it in my mouth, but I laughed. Nothing would happen without sheathing him.
I removed the strawberry-flavored condom from its wrapper, then fitted it over his bulbous cockhead. Stretching, it assumed the shape of his fierce arousal. Mmmmmmmmmm. I couldn't believe that was all for me.
John, resigned to my preventive measures, settled back in the chair. He comprehended the lust in my expression. "You want some of that, huh?"
"I've wanted it for a long time," I hoarsely admitted.
He darted at my face. "Give it a suck, babe. Let me feel those hot, teasing lips all over my dick."
My mouth opened. John went in fast. My lips caught him before he could enter my throat.
Mmmmmmmmm. I smothered its strong throb in my oral warmth. He pushed, trying to bury the whole thing in my face. I countered his impatient thrust by wedging my tongue. Locking about that solid cock, I drew powerfully.
"Oh, yeah," he gasped. "Wrap yourself around it. Ahhhhhhhhh. Suck me, babe. Work the cum from my balls. Oh, yeah. Run your teeth over it."
My hair spilled across his stomach. I whipped it over my shoulder, affording him an unobstructed view. I wanted him to see me take it in my mouth. Blowing a man with a rubber required stunning visuals.
My lips traveled the length of his cock. I inched downward, gobbling him to the stem. I flickered about the edge of the condom, tasting his bare skin. My initial contact drove him wild. He buckled in the chair.
"Christ," he gasped, digesting the butterfly sensation I engendered. A fire sparked in his brown pupils. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yeah."
Mmmmmmmmmmm, I thought. I had a twenty-one-year-old in my mouth-and I loved it. I supposed a woman of forty would reap tremendous satisfaction from seducing a well equipped lad like John.
That protective layer might have eliminated some of the fun he could have otherwise received, but I compensated him with a vivid weave and a low drop. The rubber covered three-quarters of his cock. I made sure my lips journeyed beyond its border, wiping spit over that exposed section.
"I love watching it slide in and out of your face," he said. "I wanted to fill that sexy mouth for a long time."
"I wish you had said something," I mentioned. "I've always wanted to be alone like this."
Further dialogue was unwanted. He elevated himself for my next mouthful. My lips opened to receive him. The tang of strawberries rinsed my palate. Mmmmmmmmmmm.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," he gasped. "Oh, yeah. Make the whole thing disappear. Suck me to the root. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh."
My lips rippled over his cock. He leaned forward until his balls sat on my chin. His trunk feverishly sought the warmth of my grip.
I gave John several minutes of deep-throat. Having me engulf his dick propelled his excitement. He fed himself into my gulping expression. His balls slapped my chin. Ohhhhhh. I downed him again and again. Dipping my nose into his dark thatch, I breathed John's distinct aroma. His rich, masculine smell made me giddy. In swallowing his cock, I watched the muscles in his stomach quiver.
I focused on his balls next. I lavished that taut sac with bubbly saliva. One frothy coat followed another. John appreciated my attending them--particularly since he could enjoy every swirl, every caress without interference. Mmmmmmm. The trace of salt I encountered increased my appetite.
John's thing stood in the air throughout those slurps. He was ramrod straight and aching for another round with my oral clench. I dove at that cock and gave it a lip-smacking welcome.
"You like sucking it, huh?" he muttered. "Go ahead. Lick my cock. Run your tongue up and down. Oh, yeah. Stay on it. Ahhhhhhhhhh. I can feel you-even through the rubber. Go faster, babe. Ahhhhhhhhhh."
His Adam's apple twitched. He clamped my head and slid in and out. I could feel the tremors building inside him. He was almost there.
"Mmmmmm," I hummed against that encased member. It commanded nearly all the room in my mouth. He continually bumped the roof. Using my tongue, I steered him into my throat.
"You're pretty familiar with cock," he said. "Oh, yeah. I like the way you suck it." His head rolled from side to side. "Oh, yeah. Don't stop."
I pulled and sucked on that dick, aggravated it. His gasps and exhalations multiplied. His body shook. His cheeks were pinched with red.
"I'm going to cum," he exclaimed. "Oh, Jesus-I'm going to cum."
His features contorted. I sucked his dick until he violently pitched in his seat.
"Arrrggghhhh. Arrrggghhhhh. Uggghhhhhh."
I disengaged my lips and watched the small compartment at the end of the condom inflate. Cum gushed into it, bloating its size. I regretted being unable to swallow it, but given today's risks, I had no choice. Seeing him flood his condom thrilled me.
I caressed his trembling abdomen and thighs. I was happy he enjoyed it.
Unfortunately, John passed out. His orgasm had depleted him of energy. The quantity of alcohol he had imbibed, compounded by sexual release, forced him to succumb.
My chance to physically enjoy him ended prematurely. It would have been nice to sit on that hard cock. Richie, however, would be arriving shortly to transport a drowsy John to his door. The opportunity to feel all that twenty-one-year-old enthusiasm in y pussy escaped me that night.
Damn!
Oh, well. There was always Michael.
CHAPTER THREE
I was uncomfortable about going to Spencer's that following week. Having almost done the nasty with John, I was unsure what my reception with that crowd would be. I certainly wasn't going to boast of dragging John to my place, and I doubted he would crow about it.
Naturally, Richie had the whole story. He called me the following day for the complete, unabridged version. I was rather surprised he craved graphic detail. Richie didn't divulge his conquests.
"I should have driven him home in the first place," Richie had said. "Bringing him up was a big mistake."
"Why? I didn't get off-but so what? I know he's attracted to me. He was rock-solid in my mouth. His hard-on was an outgrowth of that preoccupation."
"Don't deceive yourself, Barb. He was looking to get laid. By accident, he couldn't make it happen. I say, leave it behind you. Give up this obsession with younger men. You'll get nothing salvageable from it."
I laughed at his protestations. "Listen to you, Richie. Didn't you get your rocks off with the redhead? You nailed her ass to the mattress Friday night, huh? You hid the salami and felt no remorse."
"But he's too young. He has no concept of what he wants."
"Well, I got what I wanted in part-mostly affirmation of his affection."
"Affection wasn't what you got Friday, Barb. It was a boner."
"Yeah," I dreamily said. "It sure was nice."
Richie thought my eccentricity foolish-yet he refrained from harping on the subject. In all likelihood, he figured I had a handle on the situation.
I spent the week in vacillation. The same players would assemble, with one slight difference: the local cocktease went a step farther. My sexual razzing was put to the test. Had I passed scrutiny? Would conflicting versions of that wild night be whispered within our group?
More important, how would John treat me? Would he lose interest now that he'd scored some head? Would he be looking elsewhere now that I had eliminated some of the mystery?
I felt certain I'd satisfied him, but since we hadn't fucked, I deemed it unfinished business. I wanted to lay beneath him and experience his cock filling my pussy. The savage beat of his heart, his uncivilized mien and crushing strength at the point of climax-those were other aspects for which I thirsted.
We arrived shortly after eleven. The regulars thronged Spencer's. I offered to get the drinks while Richie met up with a few of his buddies. Kevin tossed me a wink. "Hi, gorgeous. The usual?"
I nodded. Richie and I were solid beer drinkers. We'd previously dabbled with cocktails, but returned to the perennial favorite.
Kevin displayed no telling signs that any ugly rumors had been spread. I sighed with relief. Guys liked to boast of their conquests; I suspected John was no exception.
As of yet, he hadn't shown. I didn't sweat it. Sometimes, we alternately skipped a week. I hated not seeing John or Michael for a stretch, but since it was out of my control, I was forced to grin and bear it.
Richie appeared to be enjoying his cozy circle, so rather than intrude, I dropped off his beer and headed for the pinball machine. I stacked my quarters, set my mug on the ledge and assumed what I considered a "hot" position. Bent forward with my ass propped, legs spread and tits hanging, I commenced playing. My hips shifted from one side to the other. I rotated my butt cheeks and pelted the front of the machine with my snatch for the perceptible view of others.
Let them fantasize, I thought of my audience. I wanted to end up in someone's wet dreams, where he had no recourse but to pull on it. I imagined a couple of women smacking their boyfriends on the arm for dwelling on my swiveling ass. Mmmmmmmmmm. Did they feel threatened? Yes!
Cling-cling! went the machine. Lights flickered beneath the glass casing. I launched another ball, sending it on a mad voyage.
I relished toying with people's minds. I wanted to give every man a fucking hard-on. Dream about sticking it between my legs, I tormented my onlookers. Make me moan, make me beg for more!
Yes!
I watched the metal ball veer from one trap to another. Electronic sounds punctuated its journey. I took another sip of beer and fed the slot. More hip-thrusting followed, emphasized by my unique throaty chuckle.
Looking "hot" required tremendous work. I threw myself into that role with considerable gusto. I wanted tongues to wag, sweat to drip--maybe a few tents pitched in that sea of blue jeans.
Halfway through the game, a familiar hand deposited a stack of quarters on the glass casing. "Excuse me, doll, but you're tying up the machine."
My lips curved. "It's better when two play."
"Oh, yeah? Wanna show me?"
I giggled. Michael parked himself behind me, breathing on my neck. Chills ran up and down my spine. My pussy involuntarily tightened. My reaction to him rarely differed, he exemplified everything I desired in a man. The thought of us being physically locked made me want to cum. Ohhhhhhhhhh.
"How about giving me a crack at that ball?" he murmured in my ear.
Mmmmmmmmmm. "I'll think about it."
He pinched my ass slightly harder than what I considered comfortable-a delicious punishment for resisting him. Though pretending to ignore it, I shook within. Ohhhhhhhhh. Michael knew which buttons to press, without the instruction manual.
I stepped aside when the machine ejected a new ball. "Try your luck. Beat me, if you dare. I'm running a fairly decent score."
"Leave the driving to the experts." He took command of the controls and sent the ball on a wild excursion. The lights blinked and the computerized clamor multiplied.
I grew warm from watching his cute ass pivot. His crotch bumped the machine, altering the ball's course. Michael became absorbed in the game, amassing points. His feral expression made me wet. Ohhhhhhhhhh.
A flashback of John-naked from the waist down-took shape in my mind. I recalled swaying, open-mouthed, on my knees before him. His stiff cock bridged from my moist, rubbing lips. Mmmmmmmmmmm. I sucked that thing, making him feel it through the rubber.
I applied that fantasy to Michael. It would be great seeing him in the buff, and offering that kind of stimulation. The urge to have sex with him intensified. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I inexplicably knew fucking him would be the most thrilling event in my life.
Temporarily forgetting myself, I put my hand on his butt. I fondled those compact cheeks without fathoming the repercussions. I simply wanted to grope those buns and did nothing to check the impulse.
When Michael completed his turn, he spun toward me. He made sure I got a good look. The front of his pants bulged with excitement. I saw the outline of his hard dick and panted. Without underwear, he lacked the support to hold his equipment together. His shaft sprouted at an awkward angle-thick and long. He exhibited no shame in revealing his inflamed privates-despite my never having seen him full engorged.
"You're up," he said, nodding at the game.
I could barely function. Grasping that I made him stiff filled me with a sense of accomplishment. Michael wanted me-and I wanted him more than anyone.
Michael forced me to play. He twirled me into position and placed my hands over the side buttons. My knees threatened to buckle. I stared at the flashing lights, then scanned the obstacle course. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I swallowed roughly. My mind wasn't on pinball. Rampant lust tampered with my concentration-yet, Michael expected me to pick up the thread without a hitch.
I heard the quarter drop. The scoreboard prompted me to launch the steel ball. Just as I drew back the knob, Michael pressed his hard-on into the crack of my ass. Ohhhhhhhhhh. Electricity coursed through my body.
"Go ahead," he huskily whispered.
I released the ball much too soon. My strength and attention span was weakened by the strain of his cock. Michael ground himself into me. The heat and tension of his erection took me by surprise. I perceived the range of his need, the depth of his urgency.
My eyes narrowed. I studied the ball through half-slits. Manipulating its path became an effort. Accumulating points seemed unimportant when temptation knocked relentlessly at my back door.
"Keep it going," Michael hoarsely instructed. He ceaselessly subjected me to that enticement.
He jammed himself against me, negating any avenue of escape. I couldn't flee that intoxicating pressure. I unintentionally memorized the shape of that cock simply from his vigorous impression. The prospect of its entering me, occupying space in my body, made me weak.
My nipples protruded through my T-shirt. If Michael had pawed them, I would have screamed. Spectators probably glimpsed their distended form. They bore a resemblance to torpedoes.
I flattened myself to the machine, placing demand on my aroused mound. My clit throbbed from that antagonism. Desire bombarded me without reprieve. I was certain he could smell my hunger. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Michael got me so horny, I practically swooned.
Inevitably, the ball fell into the pocket before I could deflect it. My score was the least of my concern. Fraught with shivers, I turned to Michael. His blue eyes were heavy with want. His bottom lip trembled.
Let's go for pizza," he whispered. "Huh?" I stammered. "I'm starved. Aren't you?" The need for food seemed manufactured. I assumed it was his device for getting me alone. Ohhhhhhhhh. Nothing could have detoured me from keeping my appointment with that massive hard-on.
Richie glanced from his group. His antennae apparently picked up an illogical frequency. His inquisitive look implied, "Where the hell are you two going?"
"Across the street to grab a bite," I informed him in passing.
Richie's eyes narrowed. My scheme was much too transparent. He visually branded me a tramp. "Right."
I suppose we were a bit conspicuous. Richie spotted the third leg Michael had grown-the look he tossed me conveyed that sentiment. I couldn't worry about it. I had a date with destiny, and aimed to assuage my body's primary ache.
The night air hit me like a slap in the face. Without the fog of cigarette smoke, I underwent a reality check. Was I in my right mind? Would I lose the edge I had with Michael by giving him what he coveted? Would the atmosphere continue to crackle with sexual tension? Alluding to unimagined gratification was fun-but proving it posed an insurmountable task.
His hand closed over my ass, sabotaging my attempt to regain sobriety. Michael wished to detain me in that clouded state, if only to facilitate his gratification.
As I presumed, Michael steered me to the parking lot. The neon sign of the Pizza place flickered in the background.
I could barely speak as we approached his truck. The weight of my yearning paralyzed my tongue. The only nourishment I required was inside Michael's pants.
Michael opened the door and motioned for me to get in. He glanced either way while I made my ascent. Within seconds, he joined me. The moment the door slammed, things happened rapidly.
A torrent of passion exploded from Michael. He climbed on top of me, fitting himself to my curves. I sank on my back, moaning as that hardon weighed upon my mound. Ohhhhhhhhhh. Back and forth he went, creating hot friction. I became damp and sweaty from that luscious conflict.
His mouth went over mine. He lowered his tongue into me, anxious to greet mine. I welcomed him with a moan. Our lips trembled, sustaining a feverish connection.
Oh, God, I thought deliriously. Oh, God!
He gradually traveled from my lips to my neck. The second he made contact with the base of my neck, I almost came. Ohhhhhhhh. I pitched and moaned beneath him. I broke into a frenzied sweat, digesting the sensations he fed me.
"Yeah," I moaned, vibrating. "Ohhhhh."
He unbuttoned my jeans. My panties were sopping wet. I couldn't help oozing into them. He yanked my pants down my thighs without disconnecting his suctioning mouth. The barriers that separated our flesh were being eliminated.
Michael caressed my pussy. His fingers twined through my thatch, dividing my cunt lips with his thumb. He probed that hot, sticky crevice. I was warm and gooey with juice. His finger went into me. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I jerked against the seat, absorbing his digit. He explored my snatch, moving slowly through the layers of squish.
"Oh, Michael," I sobbed, enjoying his investigation. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, God."
His mouth traveled slowly over my neck, disbursing hot, agitating kisses. His tongue thrilled me to no end. I thought I would go out of my mind from the attention he devoted.
I heard his groan of satisfaction. Oh, yeah. He really got me worked up.
Noticeable slick sounds emerged from my pussy. My cunt absorbed his finger. I shifted my hips, getting the most of his search. Feeling any part of Michael inside me supplied me a charge.
I was definitely ready to be pumped.
Michael reached into his glove compartment. Within seconds, he lifted himself from me to slip a rubber over his swollen cock. I panted as the white sheathe covered that thick shaft. In the dim light, I barely made out its size. He had, from what I could gather, something significant.
Having prepared himself for entry, he settled onto my quaking form. He silenced my rising sobs with his mouth. His tongue stilled mine. I felt the blunt end of his cock at my opening. The rounded tip sliced into my pussy, followed by that wide-bodied mass.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," I shuddered, accepting his rigid dick. He slid into my hungry snatch, steadily filling it. Michael pushed the real thing into me. He no longer teased, nor fed my imagination morsels of erotic fluff. I latched onto something incredible made of flesh and blood. Solid bone drove to my liquid center.
"Yeah," he grunted in my ear. "You're nice and snug. Come to me, doll. Bring that tight pussy to me. Seal me between those moist lips. Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
"Oh, Michael-you're so hard"
"I sure am-hard enough to fuck you."
Yes! I deliriously thought. It felt excellent to be opened by that manly part of Michael. I submitted to his voracious shove, enjoying that sweet separation. My pussy expanded to accommodate his bulk.
I wrapped my legs around him. His cock completed its drop. He throbbed within my quivering flesh. Oh, wow, I thought-there was no excess capacity. He crammed his whole self into my juicy snatch.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh."
Michael began to thrust. He pinned my ass to the seat when he came down. Stars twinkled before my eyes. My lips rounded and spouted gasps of joy. In and out he went, spearing through gelatinous pulp. My pussy gave him one sloppy kiss after another.
I had to be nuts, I chastised myself, to be fucking in a parking lot. My behavior mimicked that of a horny young chick, getting laid in the back seat. Any passerby could peek through the window-that was, if we wiped away the steam. We heavily fogged all of them. We made the truck rock, too.
My pussy greased Michael's drive-shaft. I could hear the wet noises produced by his rubber-encased dick catching my soaked cunt lips. He plowed deeply into me, running that dense chunk through my narrow passage. His balls thumped against my inner thighs.
He stationed his mouth at my neck, feeding me delicious stimulation. Slipping a hand under my T-shirt, he stroked my erect nipple. Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
"Fuck me," I implored, undulating. "Oh, yeah. Jam me. Let's go. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Faster. Harder. Ohhhhhhhhhh. More."
"That's it," he gasped, packing my cunt. "Take it. Grab my cock with that tight pussy. Oh, yeah. That's what you've been after. You wanted it. Here it comes."
He slammed into me, making me buckle. I could feel his urgency-along with about eight inches of hot, pounding discipline. I couldn't get enough. My cunt took huge mouthfuls of him. I shivered at that section of him beyond the edge of his rubber. He dug into me until his balls bulged at my soaked entrance. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Michael really curled my toes.
His chest came down over mine. I discerned his palpitations. He must have skipped a beat or two, given the rate of his heart.
I was totally conscious of his cock in relation to my pulsating clit. In and out that thing sliced, brushing my love button. He scorched me. Ohhhhhhhhhh. A disturbance sizzled through my loins. Not only did his penetrating thrusts stir me, but so did his coincidental contact with that enlarged bud.
"Oh, Michael," I sobbed, physically soaring.
He overloaded my circuits. I loved his shafting. His thick cock reached far into my pussy-farther than Tim ever could. I clutched his flexing buns, urging him to pound me into submission. I squeezed those compact cheeks. My nails sank into his flesh, just as he lowered himself fully into my cunt. "Ohhhhhh."
I came fast. Michael fulfilled my wildest dreams. The sky illuminated with fireworks. Two trains collided head on, yielding tremendous wreckage.
"Ohhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh."
Michael contorted. I could tell he jizzed in his rubber. He clung to me, flushed. Sweat dripped from his brow. He emptied his lungs of stale air, along with a harrowing cry. "Arrrggghhhhh. Arrggghhhhhh. Uggghhhhhhhhh."
I made a sincere attempt to restore my appearance to some sense of normalcy. I didn't want to return to the bar looking thoroughly disheveled.
Michael merely zipped up and grinned. He swatted my ass. "Not bad for a slouch."
"Asshole," I said, with a tinge of affection.
John was conversing with Richie went we came back. He looked very much disgusted. Stepping away from Richie, he said to me, "That was a very long piece of pizza."
"We were talking," I said.
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, his voice steadily rising. "How was the sausage? Was it good?"
Michael simply chuckled and signaled to Kevin for a beer.
Richie shook his head.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Aren't you getting a bit greedy?" Richie scolded. "Both guys in two weeks. Who's next? Kevin, the bartender? Shall we raffle off blow jobs each Friday?"
"You make it sound like I'm out of control."
"You are. People are going to think you're easy if you keep sneaking off to the parking lot for a quickie."
"Bringing home some redhead to fuck, however, is perfectly acceptable in your book." I couldn't hide my petulance. Richie was pointing fingers without thinking it through. I was fed up with his double standards. "Since when did everything boil down to right and wrong?"
"You played those two like that pinball machine. Fun and games, remember-nothing more. Spreading your legs for them was a serious mistake. You're going to lose people's respect."
"Do men lose respect for each other when they know they're boffing the local talent?"
"Well, no-"
"Then don't hand me this bullshit, Richie. It's not as though I want to fuck every guy who walks through the door. I've been attracted to John and Michael exclusively-a fact I've made crystal clear."
"They're too young."
"Perhaps John," recalling our nearly twenty-year discrepancy, "but Michael is only eight years behind us. He's not a hothead like John. That fiery temper is a basis for that attraction." It struck me that we'd been yelling at each other for over an hour. Richie and I didn't normally quarrel. We'd grown accustomed to each other over the years. Our familiarity made us compatible. "Hey, it's been a long night. Can we call a truce?"
He sighed. "Sure."
Richie attempted to swallow his resentment. The drive home was quiet, but I welcomed it. I reminisced about those moments spent under Michael. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I recalled his slipping a hand under my ass and pulling me tightly against him while he drove deeply into my cunt. His cock made me sore. I had trouble sitting on the stool, nursing that ache. Several times during the balance of the evening, I stopped talking and experienced a profound emptiness between my legs. Michael definitely left a void.
He'd shoved more than eight inches in my pussy. I'd felt the culmination of six to eight months of teasing and frustration pumping me. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. As with John, Michael's cock had thickened and developed at the prospect of probing that hot, sticky part of me. Both watched me while they took their pleasure. Getting me to enact their fantasies made them cum so hard. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I remembered their eyes glazing over with ecstasy just before they spewed.
Too bad their condoms had to collect that fluid. I'll bet they wanted to leave me their spent jism as a creamy souvenir.
Richie's disgruntlement was nothing compared to John's. His hostility knew no bounds. He glared at me, unable to conceal his jealousy. Despite the ribbing I took for stepping out with Michael, I never admitted to having sex with him. My opposition to substantiate that hunch twisted the knife in John's gut. Having blown the chance to totally please me obviously tormented him. Michael took advantage of an opportunity previously extended him, and brought it to a satisfying conclusion.
While John glowered, Michael's casual air resumed. The intensity was gone. He chatted with his buddies, downed several beers and played pinball. Michael's needs were simple.
I took offense at his superficial attitude. Warm fuzzies weren't anticipated, but an occasional comment would have been refreshing. He neglected to speak with me afterward-even in passing.
Admitting that to Richie would have supported his argument. I subscribed to the theory that sometimes things got off to a rough start-but improved over time.
I wanted both John and Michael to believe the best was yet to come.
I fell into my usual dreary routine at work the following week. Answering the phone calls of the sexually voracious kept me busy. The appetite for spicy conversation was insatiable. Our operators had to explore their creativity to come up with new and exciting tidbits to feed their callers. Those devotees of the erotic pleaded for any delicious scrap that could be fashioned.
Justine was flooded with calls. She reveled in her notoriety. People specifically requested her; some remained on hold, and at $I.95 per minute, that constituted an expensive addiction.
Justine's repertoire of verbal stimulation seemed inexhaustible. The woman invented things I couldn't possibly imagine.
The man from the private delivery service walked through the door with a special package while I was on the phone. Normally, I would have put the current caller on hold to sign the receipt on his clipboard, but my switchboard flickered like a Christmas tree. I motioned for him to wait.
Justine was in the midst of a steamy escapade with a customer. Her dark eyes flashed at the messenger. Justine once mentioned that she need merely picture a man in her mind to generate usable material.
"Do you like to eat pussy, baby?" she purred into her headset. "You do? Mmmmmmmmm. I would love to get licked. My cunt is dripping for a thirsty man. Oh, yeah. I want your tongue, baby. I want some licks."
The messenger, a tall guy of twenty or so in a T-shirt and tattered jeans, peered at Justine. Her antics apparently dumbfounded him. I regarded him closely. Hmmmmmm. He frequently came to the office disbursing parcels, and understood Fantasy Hotline's basic operation. The lusty moaning could be heard at the elevator station. Justine's subject matter must have tripped a secret wire. Whether it was her ribald comments or the finger she snuck into her panties, I couldn't say.
My fingers danced across the keyboard, supplying information to the various fields on my computer screen. The man on the line slowly rattled off the numbers of his credit card. My inability to properly hear (given the background noise) prevented his expedition.
Justine engaged the messenger in strong eye contact while jiggling. Her tongue circled the moist borders of her lips. Soft mewls punctuated her fevered cries. In pulling back her panties, she revealed dark wisps to him. Her knuckles protruded through the silk panel as she rapidly stroked that aroused button.
"I want you to fuck me with your tongue," Justine said aloud. Her command could have been directed to her caller, or to the messenger. "Kneel between my legs and stick your tongue in my pussy. Lick those sugary drops that trickle from my cunthole."
She jerked her hips at the messenger. Sticky sounds echoed from between her tanned thighs.
Color splashed the young man's cheeks. I wasn't sure he'd seen a pussy before-at twenty, many men haven't-but the scent of one seemed to drive him crazy. He froze. Justine's invitation provoked him. I gathered, from his posture, he was inclined to accept.
I watched in awe as he set the clipboard on my desk. Justine, nodding emphatically, spread her legs. She lowered the section of her panties, displaying her juicy snatch. The young man parked himself before those fur-lined lips, then pressed his face into them. Justine's hands enclosed his head and pulled him tightly into her soaked cunt flesh.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," she moaned, combing his dark hair. "Oh, God. Scoop the honey with your tongue, baby. Dive into that drenched hole. Stretch yourself, baby. I want to feel you reach. Ohhhhhhh. Oh, yeah. That tongue is fucking me. Don't stop. Jam it in my cunt. Wriggle it. Can you taste how horny I am? Mmmmmmmmmm. I'm just oozing in your mouth. Swallow it, baby. Drink my excitement."
The delivery guy complied with her wish. He separated her slippery folds with his tongue. His throat muscles functioned to dispatch the juices he collected. He gulped her tangy nectar.
I completed processing the guy on my line and sent him to Cathy. She welcomed him with a throaty moan. Cathy, who took some of Justine's calls, possessed comparable phone sex skills. I was confident she would satisfy him.
I signed for the package the messenger brought. He wasn't in a hurry to leave. He meticulously traced Justine's cunt lips, then gave her clit a slurp. Justine rocked herself to his face. Having a real tongue as a prop peppered her verbiage. Unraveling a mind-bending scenario required originality, but when one's imagination was properly stimulated, the results were sheer dynamite.
"Eat me," Justine sobbed. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Suck my pussy. Lick my cunt. Gulp those juices. Oh, yeah. Let me seep in your mouth. See what that tongue does to me, baby? You're good. I'm sopping wet. My pussy enjoys that kind of pleasure. I love watching your tip move over my snatch. Oh, God. Stay on my clit. Yeah. Ohhhhhhh. Keep it there. Faster. Ohhhhhhhhhh. Faster, please." Her brown pupils curved high in her sockets. Her glistening lips trembled. Justine's titillation appeared valid.
The messenger made a feast of her cunt. Giving head seemed his specialty. He genuinely loved running all over that aggravated section. He opened those shimmering petals, heavily mouthing her cunt lips. I heard his fierce suction and contented gulps. Justine's thighs trembled around his bobbing head.
His energetic performance provoked Sherry, another operator. Our beautifully black agent must have found a way of incorporating what she saw into her unraveling tale. Since each of them had wireless headsets, our operators enjoyed the freedom of moving about without being stuck in one spot. That mobility enabled them interaction with the other operators. I saw them visit neighboring cubicles for inspiration.
Sherry brought along a condom from her desk drawer. Dominique, our boss, enforced the rule of complete protection (which even I adopted).
She caressed the messenger. Her hands streamed over his lean frame. Touching him appeared to arouse her. She spoke of the sensations coursing through her body to her caller while nourishing that young man's stimulus.
The messenger continued to eat Justine. He caressed her silky thighs while dipping his tongue into her juicy cunt. He licked her flaps with such fervor, Justine writhed in her seat. Keeping her legs apart seemed an effort.
Sherry groped him. I watched him grow from her appetizing flutter. Initially semi-hard when lowering his tongue into Justine, he eventually bulged under her persistent hand. Ohhhhhhh.
She unbuckled his pants, obviously wanting to get at his thing. I swallowed roughly as she steered that hard cock out of his briefs. Wow. It resembled a section of pipe, long and narrow. Wrapping her fingers around his dick, she gave it a jerk.
The young man tensed. Sherry's rear assault knocked him breathless.
Sherry poured the details of her salty yarn to her listener. "Do you like being in a woman's fist? Mmmmmmmm. I love to stroke a man's cock and make him throb. I enjoy feeling all that life in my grip. I'll bet your knob gets purplish. Sure, it does. If massaged slowly, you can see a pearl of cum ooze from the tip."
Sherry did not allow the messenger that luxury. She immediately slipped the rubber over his swollen member. If any of his creamy fluid had escaped, it didn't touch her. Into that condom, he went-all eight inches. Sherry was an expert at dressing a cock. Employing that protective layer probably equated to a silvery caress.
Having safely enclosed him, she resumed her intoxicating stroke. Her fingers curled around that lengthy shaft and achieved a quickening embrace.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh," the messenger groaned.
Sherry cupped the top of his head and pushed him to Justine's snatch. He kissed her inner thighs, then speared her cunt. Into fragrant pulp, he delved. Swinging his tongue, he instigated a fresh flow. Nectar dribbled plentifully from her pink folds.
"Oh, yeah," Justine whimpered as his tongue entered her, then collected those raging drops. She shivered, then leaned into his ravenous expression. Gyrating her hips, she sought to gain every benefit of his eager whips. "Ohhhhhh. Clean my pussy with your swift tongue. Lick those juices. Swallow my lust, baby. Drink my nectar. Ohhhhhhh. Eat me. Eat me good." She moved in circles against his mouth, begging him to go even deeper. Throwing her head back, she let out more sobs. The messenger achieved maximum depth. "Yes, baby. As far as you can. Go to the heart of my cunt."
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," he hummed into her furry mound. "Mmmmmmmmmmm."
Sherry furiously masturbated him. He swelled through her fist, captured in latex. With her free hand, she caressed his chest. She roamed its contours, concentrating on his nipples. Although men adamantly denied their susceptibility, most projected enthusiasm when passionately fondled in that area. Their facial distortions came alive, their shivers real. Even their nubs stiffened.
"You want to cum, don't you?" Sherry simultaneously whispered to her caller and the messenger. "You can't handle another second of my magic fingers running all over your manly body. I can't stay away from your big cock, either. I've got to pull on it, keep it hard. Oh, yeah. That electric current is overwhelming. You want to spasm beneath my fluttering touch."
Justine thrashed in her chair. The messenger hotly pursued her clit. His sinuous dance brought her to fever pitch. He lashed her without mercy, tonguing that pulsing button. Justine's ass bounced in the chair, but could not displace the messenger's vibrant tip.
"I'm cumming," she shrieked. "Oh, God. I'm cumming. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhh."
He drank the pungent secretions. She gushed profusely in his mouth. Clamping down, he filled his mouth with cunt and siphoned her candied treat.
Before he could fully avail himself of her outpour, Sherry's yank drove him to climax. His face was marred with agony as he discharged in the rubber. Simply from his dazed expression, I perceived his relief. The front of his condom ballooned while capturing the torrent of jism.
"Uggghhhhhhh," he howled. When he turned, I saw Justine's moisture on his cheeks and chin. His pupils had that dull, distant look. "Uggghhh. Uggghhhhh. Arrrggggghhhh."
Sherry stroked his shuddering body. "Did you like that, baby? Did I make it good? Huh? Oh, yeah."
My cheeks flamed. Wow. I crossed my legs and pressed my horny mound into the chair. I thought about Michael's tongue reaching into my pussy, thrilling me to no end. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I wanted John to bring me to orgasm in a similar manner. I had attended their needs, given their gratification priority.
In our next romp, I would insist my fulfillment come first.
CHAPTER FIVE
On Friday, I was floored to learn that John, my short-tempered Italian, had a girlfriend. In recounting various conversations and rumors which made the rounds at Spencer's, I had no recollection of someone laying territorial claim to John. I flattered myself his only woman.
Friday, however, was the only night I went to Spencer's. John apparently stopped by with Wendy during weeknights. That tidbit totally escaped me.
When he walked into Spencer's the following Friday with a cute blonde draped on his arm, my ego took a fierce blow. God! Her youth and radiance forwarded my despair. Vivacious, willowy, beautiful-she was my worst nightmare.
"Check out John's girlfriend," Bernie, a member of our circle, commented.
"Girlfriend?" I echoed.
"Sure. He lives with her. Everybody knows about Wendy." Everybody except me, I morosely thought. She was, in my opinion, a well-kept secret.
Richie sensed my discomfiture. "Want to leave?"
I shook my head. The bitch had invaded my turf. I wasn't going to abandon ship on account of her. On Fridays, I reigned supreme. Wendy would have to learn her place.
John made sure he rubbed my nose in it. He came over with Wendy, relishing the introductions. I masked my true emotions, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
"So you're Barbara," she said. "I've heard a great deal about you."
"Oh? I glanced at John. Did the scoundrel have the balls to tell her I sucked him off?
"John mentioned you have a tremendous sense of humor. You keep everyone in stitches-a quick wit with an endless supply of delicious retorts."
"I have fun with my friends." I scanned John in a frank, telling manner. "Lots of fun."
John's cocky grin faded. Spilling the beans about our little rendezvous could have precipitated a squabble. I put him on notice not to push me. "I'm thirsty. Let's get some drinks."
I snickered while they drifted over to the bar.
"I'd watch myself, if I were you," Richie warned. "You could start a feud."
"Well, you're not me-so don't sweat it."
Michael had skipped coming. If he walked through the door, I would have climbed all over him-just to piss off John. In reflecting upon the previous week in his truck, I strongly considered jumping him regardless. I recalled his pushing that large cock into me, my startled moan and automatic pulling away, then those manly hands of his grasping my buttocks and dragging me back to him for some more. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. He drove it into me again and again until my heels pressed into the seat cushions, screaming for that big dick. Oh, yeah. I wanted him to fuck me again. I had hoped for a rematch-at my place, perhaps an all-nighter. Pondering those eight, incredible inches made me weak with want.
My disappointment with Michael's absence subsided. I couldn't permit it to spoil my cherished Friday. John's girlfriend was enough of a shock. If I couldn't have Michael or John, then I opted to play a few games of pinball. Gyrating my hips, pelting the machine with my mound, bouncing my tits for the other salivating males at Spencer's salvaged the evening.
Richie grinned, shaking his head. He often described me as a hopeless case-a nymphomaniac wannabe. My posture was classic vamp. He chugged his beer from a distance while taking part in various discussions. Richie had his group of buddies, along with a chick or two who caught his eye.
The redhead he boned a few weeks ago took serious note of everything he said. Sitting on the stool adjacent to him, she made damn sure their thighs touched. Those big tits repeatedly struck his arm. Glittering eyes gazed dreamily at his profile.
I snickered. Whatever Richie had served up that night, the redhead wanted a second helping. Hmmmmmmmmm. Richie was going to get his axle greased.
Bernie took control of the pinball machine. I strutted over there, waiting for him to exhaust his stack of quarters. While passing time, I studied him. Bernie-tall, attractive and black-was one of the regulars with whom I compulsively flirted. Men of differing races intrigued me, but there was always a particular mystique about blacks that tickled my fancy. The operators at the office alluded that most were well-endowed. I thought that a myth, but Justine and Sherry maintained its validity.
I assessed Bernie's broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist and narrow hips. His butt revved my engine. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. I've always loved checking out asses. That trait, I surmised, had been sewn in my genes. My sister and mother shared that penchant.
John and Michael reawakened the sensuous woman in me. Teasing, alone, no longer suited me. I thirsted for a higher level of fulfillment. Sex became an important component of my life. I liked it with my former boyfriend Tim, but not to the same degree. Tim lacked fantasy-building skills. He had been too focused on school and his ever-changing career. My orgasms were pleasing, but not explosive. With Michael, I came so hard. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. He made me sore for days.
I viewed men in an entirely new light. My evaluation of Bernie was dissimilar to the one I originally formed. I saw him as a fitting substitute-and a chance to add variety to my sex life. Approximately thirty years old, with the grace of ah athlete, Bernie gave me a whole lot to think about.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I wanted some black cock.
Setting both hands on the glass casing, I leaned forward. My tits almost flew out of my blouse. He glimpsed the smattering of freckles on those billowy globes, along with some mouth-watering cleavage. "Are you going to monopolize that machine all night?" I sassed.
"Want to play me?" he jested.
My lips had a wicked slant. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
He seemed attuned to my erotic frequency. "You've got that right."
"What shall we wager? I need an incentive."
He grinned. "Name it."
"How about, winner picks the place to do it?"
His Adam's apple jerked. "Sounds fine to me."
I swung my hips against him. "Let me get in there, baby. Ladies first."
Bernie visibly trembled. He and I had never placed those kinds of bets in the past. I reserved that type of gambling for Michael. Bernie stood in the background, eating his heart out. He apparently relished the stakes. The loser stood to receive a nice consolation prize.
Of course, making good on my bets never happened. It was all talk. Something in my mien, however, must have instilled the impression that fucking wouldn't be ruled out.
He watched me with those sexy brown eyes. Hunger was etched in his expression. I got wet while studying his large black hands operating the buttons. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. His butt moved seductively, inspiring naughty ideas.
I launched my pump and grind routine, aware that other eyes in the bar rested on me. My ass moved in bewitching circles. My tits shook. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I looked hot, regarding myself the temptress.
In turning, I caught John drooling. Ha! He probably realized taking his love kitten to Spencer's wasn't the thing to do. How could he rationalize his prolonged staring while in her company? John silently pined for me. His puppy dog eyes were a dead giveaway.
Richie frowned. He obviously figured I was up to no good. The redhead failed to stop him from gazing in my direction. Richie slammed down several beers, looking disgusted. He told me before we even got to Spencer's to cool it.
I won that first game. Bernie didn't stand a chance. I affected his concentration. "Okay," I purred, "how about playing for sex position? Winner decides which one we use. Okay?"
He swallowed roughly. "Sure."
I loaded the machine with quarters. "Let's go."
My pussy smacked the edge again and again. I envisioned slamming against Bernie's towering wall of muscle. Ohhhhhhhhhh. The thought of embracing a sweating black man turned me on. I knew it would be good. Bernie looked the type that lusted for white chicks. I gave him an opportunity to get one off.
My score climbed, but so did Bernie's. He regained his competitive edge. I tried throwing him off with an arousing shake and eye-popping jiggle, but he remained on course. It wasn't until I pinched his ass that I caused him to falter. His firm buns excited me. Ohhhhhhhh. Bernie was built solid.
John, Wendy and Richie were at the pool table. They watched me and Bernie while playing. My bag of tricks captivated all three. I was quite the loose woman, flaunting my wares. My rotating ass was the featured attraction. I'll bet Kevin sold more beer to those parched men. Hard-ons were grown in abundance.
Oh, baby, I silently sang, come to Mama!
Bernie managed to beat me. My focus wasn't on the path of that metal ball.
"Whew!" I said, wiping the perspiration from my brow. "All that competition has gotten me hungry. How about running across the street with me to the coffee shop? I love their lemon donuts."
Bernie's eyes flickered. "Sure."
Watching me nibble on one generally gave guys a woody. They enjoyed the suggestive dipping of my tongue. My tip swirled in the glaze. The lip-smacking finale always got them. Mmmmmmmm. My eating habits accurately depicted my erotic talents.
Richie almost dropped his pool stick when we started for the door. "Whoa, Barb," he said aloud.
I turned, fixing him with a mischievous smile. "Lemon donuts, anyone?"
"They're too rich for me," Wendy remarked. "I can't afford the calories."
Is that why you don't give your man head? I wanted to needle her. Too much protein per serving to swallow? "We'll be right back. John, be a dear and guard the pinball machine. Bernie and I haven't finished." John merely glowered.
Bernie and I shuffled along, oblivious to their staring. Creating a commotion was exactly how I wished to make my exit. Drawing out the suspense afforded me a thrill. When I returned with the lemon donut and devoured it in my infamous style, their horny minds would have more material to feed upon.
The coffee shop, a dive at the corner across from Spencer's, did a fair amount of business with the inebriated crowd. Most people stopped for a sobering cup of coffee before attempting to drive home. Others, like myself, frequented it when they got the munchies.
Bernie was much too quiet during our walk. He refused to engage in a playful tete-a-tete. He took my hand as we crossed the street, but upon nearing the door, pulled me toward the alley.
"Would you rather use the rear entrance?" I giggled.
Bernie's grip was nonnegotiable. I detected his tremors. The streetlamp illuminated the swollen shape of his cock. Whoa! Bernie had a king-sized basket on him!
I abandoned my puns and allowed him to lead me into the darkness. My appetite for black cock increased as we melded into the shadows.
Bernie had been a friend. Now he would be more.
My back was against a brick wall. Bernie's mouth came down on my neck. The press of his warm, wanting lips took me my surprise.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," I moaned, overcome with tingles. "Oh, yeah."
His hands encompassed my tits. He expertly shaped them. My nipples throbbed between his thumb and forefinger. He tweaked them. Ohhhhhhh.
"I've wanted you for so long," he croaked. He shoved his stiff cock against my mound. Leisurely, he rotated his hips. He palpitated into that inflamed area. "Christ. I dreamed about this moment."
He yanked my tucked T-shirt up from my jeans. Before I could utter a sound, his mouth covered one of my inflamed nubs. He sucked my tit. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My pussy tightened in anticipation. I felt the seepage spring from my cunt lips. Bernie transferred his lips to the other nipple and brought it to life. The electrical flow was incredibly sweet.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," he hummed against my trapped flesh. "Mmmmmmmm." His tongue swerved, bringing it to a pronounced point.
"Oh, God," I sobbed, shaking. I perceived his hunger in those licks. He centered on my tits, loving them the way he had done countless times in his mind. "Oh, Bernie. That feels so good."
Slowly, he sank to his knees. His face was level with my crotch. Those nimble fingers undid my snap. I quivered as his breath filtered through my bare flesh. Ohhhhhhhhhh. He wanted to taste me. Those huge thumbs divided my snatch. Juice flowed from the crack. Bernie instantly cleaned the surplus with a velvety caress.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," I whimpered. My mouth dropped open and a guttural sigh escaped. His initial flick robbed me of air. "Oh, Bernie. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh."
Bernie drove his tongue into me. My ass twisted against the bricks as I received its delightful twist. Ohhhhhhhhhh. He delved into my nectar-rich pussy, slurping the moisture. I oozed onto his sinuous tip. He clamped my hole and sucked so ferociously, stars twinkled before my eyes. The pleasure was so acute, I feared losing consciousness.
"Mmmmmm," he growled, gulping my female essence. "Mmmmmm." He probed me with that thing, gliding along the tensing walls.
Moaning, I dribbled into his vacuuming orifice. He drank from my pussy, siphoning its flavor. My vision blurred as he scaled its depths. Ohhhhhhh. His lips rubbed my damp cunt flesh.
At the beginning of his oral tease, I was aware of our surroundings. I pronounced myself insane for fucking in an alley. If a pedestrian-or patrol car-happened along, we could have faced some serious charges. Once Bernie made contact with that phenomenal tongue, my concern dissipated.
"Yes," I moaned, feeding it to him. I rocked myself to his face. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Suck me, baby. Eat it. Clean me with those sweet strokes. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Eat my pussy. Yes. Lick it well. Fuck me with your tongue."
He sliced through my furry ring. I watched him take huge mouthfuls of cunt. I shivered and sobbed when he clamped my snatch. Ohhhhhh. Those slurps brought dizzying joy. What excited me most was that he ate me of his own volition. I didn't request it-he simply dove for my muff.
My clit came alive under his lavish whips. Bernie circled it slyly, waiting until my heart reached its target rate, then slashed across it with some saliva. I trembled as the bubbles popped. His revolutions continued. He tongued me without preliminary. Each lap yielded more froth. Ohhhhh. He sought my pulse, gauging his licks by my clit's response.
"More," I hoarsely pleaded. "Don't stop. Ohhhh. Make me cum. Ohhhhhhhhhhh." I wanted to be licked to orgasm. Nobody had given me that thrill-before Bernie.
He complied. His mouth closed over my snatch. He sucked and lapped me nonstop. I writhed against that brick wall, crying out into the night. I lunged for that furious tip, desperate for the chills it produced. Combing my nails through his hair, I steered him to my hot spot.
Bernie required little instruction. He knew precisely where to go. He made me jump and buckle with his satisfying whips.
I came with an intensity that left me bewildered. Bernie sucked my pussy dry. He drained me of my creamy secretions-or so I thought. Ecstasy shimmered on the horizon. I soared to that plane, anxious to reach that destination.
"Oh, Bernie," I whimpered. "I'm going to cum. I'm going to-ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh, yes! Oh, you sweet baby. Yes! Ohhhhhhhhh!"
He rocked my very foundation. My knees almost gave. I surrendered to the savage contractions. My tits swung madly, the nipples dripping with sweat. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I gushed in his mouth, filling it with my spurting nectar. Bernie drank all I had.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," he grunted, availing himself to my liquefied pleasure.
I held my arms out to him. I needed to cling to his manly frame in the final stages of orgasm. Depleted of energy, I neared collapse. His chest pinned my sensitive tips. He buried his hard-on into my soft folds. I jerked my hips, aching for it. The prospect of taking that big, black dick into my cunt made me woozy.
"Do you have a rubber?" I huskily whispered.
"Uh-huh."
"Put it on. I want you to fuck me."
Bernie fished in his pocket. I couldn't wait. I unbelted his pants, then tore down his zipper. I wanted to see what he had. The second his fly opened and that enormous shaft jutted, I gasped.
"Yeah," I said, stroking it. I wanted to tackle that beast in the worst way. "Oh, yeah. Hurry. Please. I want it."
Bernie slipped the protective sheath over his thing. His cock went from black to white. He spanned several inches, curving upward. His excitement was total.
I angled myself for entry. "Put it in, Bernie. I'm going out of my mind."
He guided the bulbous head to my slick pussy, then pushed. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. He was so fucking hard, I thought he might split me in half. His cock went in slowly, giving me a chance to adjust. Oh, yeah. I wrapped my leg around his waist and leaned against the wall. He drove it home. I bit my bottom lip while taking it, then moaned. Oh, yeah! This is what it was all about! Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I steered myself at that monster and took it whole. It felt incredible. I smothered Bernie with my hot, spongy cunt.
"Oh, God," I choked. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh." That elongated monster reached high into my snatch. He opened me with one thrust. I thought I would faint from excitement. He withdrew, then returned to that elevated spot.
"Man, baby," he muttered, "your pussy sure is tight. You sure haven't been with a man like me."
I wasn't going to answer that. Michael had been a cunt-unlocking experience. Let him think as he wished. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. That thing knocked the wind out of me. Oh, God, what a cock! Oh, yeah. I responded to him, sliding to it. In and out he went, filling me to capacity.
I reached around him and cupped his ass. He flexed beneath my raking nails. He rammed me with that hard dick. I could hear our slippery connection. His body groaned with pleasure as he pumped me.
"Do you like white pussy, baby?" I purred. "Hmmmmmmmm? You like fucking white chicks with that big, black dick? Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I can feel your enjoyment."
"You're the only one I wanted," he confessed. "Every week, I go home and beat off, thinking about you. You're a sexy woman, Barbara. You get me all riled up. What you've got in your pussy would have gone in my hand tonight. Ahhhhhhh. I'll give you the kind of loving you always wanted from a man. You're going to need me again after I'm finished. Your body won't feel right with anybody else-not after it's had me."
I barely heard him above the blood pounding in my temples. He made me moan with that beautiful cock. I hankered for those deep, satisfying strokes. He didn't slam into me, but rather glided in and out with ease. I loved his rhythm. Bernie obviously felt a steady pace reaped a high level of gratification. I could do little more than hug myself to him and derive pleasure from those uniform thrusts. I concentrated on that rigid member traveling to my sodden core, triggering a barrage of sensations. He stuck me with it, again and again. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. What a rush. That thing charged through me.
"This is what you need, baby," he muttered. "The rest doesn't matter-not when you can have it. Let's keep it where it belongs-inside your warm pussy. Oh, yeah. It wants to stay buried in you. Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
He squeezed himself into me, then drew back until all but his mushroom-shaped head remained submerged. Penetration was sweet, exhilarating. I didn't want it to end. My pussy swallowed everything he had. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. All that friction, however, culminated into orgasm. Bernie couldn't prolong that weakening splendor indefinitely.
Dazed, I clutched him. "You're making me cum, Bernie. Ohhhhh. I'm cumming. Ohhhhhhh. I'm cumming!"
"Yeah," he muttered, jerking through my drenched cunt. "Let me take you to paradise."
That dick came at me fast and sure. I moaned as he stuffed it between my legs, making it disappear. My snatch absorbed his condom-covered thing. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I could tell he neared explosion, too. He trembled, about to spew.
"Oh, Bernie," I screamed from that shattering climax. "Oh, God. Ohhhhhhhhhhh."
"I'm right behind you, baby. I'm gonna shoot." He slipped me that bone-hard dick. "Ohhh, yeah. Ohhhh, yeah. Arrrggghhhhhhhh. Arrrggghhhhh. Ugggghhhhhh."
He convulsed in my arms. My sobs drifted into the night air, mingling with Bernie's guttural cries. He dug into me, unable to control himself. His orgasm was violent. His face became a grotesque mask while he poured that urgent part of himself into the condom.
"I always knew you would be awesome," he whispered after regaining his composure. "You've been my fantasy woman, Barbara. The second I hear your voice, I get a hard-on. And nobody can play pinball like you. Jesus, that ass of yours has given me endless hours of jerk off material. I keep thinking about taking you from behind, and then I've got to grab myself." He thought on it. "Would you give me your ass, Barbara? Would you do that for me?"
I shook my head. "Anal sex isn't one of my favorite acts."
"Aren't you forgetting our pinball game? We played for position and I won. What if I wanted you that way?"
I laughed. "I'd call for a rematch."
He looked disappointed. "Maybe you'll change your mind. I'd go easy. I would never hurt you."
I kissed him on the lips. "Let's go get the lemon donut, baby, before they call out the dogs."
CHAPTER SIX
Justine invited me to a party at her apartment the following night. Several of the operators-Sherry, Darlene and Cynthia-numbered among her guests. Some hunky guys were there, too. She insisted I come-if only for the scenery. Unaware of my barroom activities, Justine believed I led a subdued life in which nothing exciting happened. Her attempt to instill variety was, in her opinion, for the sake of charity.
The moment I entered that sea of bodies, I prepared myself for a rocky evening. Biker guys with colorful tattoos grinned. Girls dressed in halter tops, shorts and spike heels loitered the halls. The lights, turned low, created a sexually charged atmosphere reminiscent of Spencer's.
I felt right at home.
Justine served a full complement of beverages in her dining room, along with a table of snacks. People drank, but few nibbled. Flesh was the number one food.
I watched a dude talking with a chick, then, for no apparent reason, he reached into her halter top and dislodged her breast. Down came his mouth for a suck. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. The girl threw back her head and moaned. I saw saliva drip from her nipple afterward.
Another girl leaned over an upholstered chair with her ass propped. Driving himself into her backside was a biker who had applied a condom to his upright cock. Ohhhhhhhhhh. He leaned into those braced cheeks with an opened mouth. Back and forth he sawed, making the girl squirm.
Rubber-covered cocks were sucked to orgasm. I was surprised how many guys got off on it. It was my assumption a piece of latex separating hard flesh from a pair of lips dampened one's enthusiasm. Was I wrong! The spontaneity of suddenly getting tucked into one before entering the mouth of a beautiful girl kindled a fire. I watched as hips jerked to someone's face, filling it with dick. Many girls preferred finishing off their men with their fist so that they could watch the front compartment of the rubber inflate with spurting jism.
Two bikers sat side by side on Justine's sofa while their laps were occupied with humping women. Wow! I observed two female asses rising and falling on prophylactic-sheathed cocks. A set of buttocks looked mighty familiar. When checking it out, I discovered they belonged to Justine!
"Hi, Barbara," she said as I walked up to her. She lifted and dropped herself on the biker. Her partner appeared delirious from the lunges her cunt took. "Are you having a good time?"
I nodded.
"Do mingle. These are fun people. I want to make sure you enjoy yourself." Her fingers explored the dense matting of her man's chest. Her thumbs skimmed his uncovered nipples. He groaned. Justine pushed down, intensifying that chill with some juicy snatch.
"Yeah, baby," he muttered.
Her lips curved. "There's lots of cute guys. Don't be shy. Safety is the golden rule here. Everybody has to wear protection. I've stocked rubbers in all the candy dishes. Nobody may initiate sex without wearing one."
An orgy for the practitioners of Safe Sex, I thought. Though sensible, it seemed highly unusual. I supposed if someone craved an assortment of pussy, he had to adhere to that policy.
I was about to ask Justine where I might find the bathroom, but she seemed no longer coherent. She rode her man with that faraway look-as though something powerful dominated her senses. Her lips formed a circle and gasps spilled out.
"Come on, baby," she murmured. "Oh, yeah.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh."
The man retained his wits through Justine's spasms. She pitched wildly on his lap, tamed by a firm grip. He took possession of those quivering butt cheeks, navigating them through turbulence.
I elected to find the bathroom without her help. Roaming her apartment was a voyeur's dream. Her guests fucked and sucked in every available spot. Justine's kitchen table, as well as counter space, was occupied with writhing flesh. Even closets were in use.
I found Sherry on her stomach with her legs spread and a thick cock protruding from her asshole. She whimpered as it plowed into her crack. I refrained from engaging her in conversation. I doubted she could respond to my questions. The dick probing her butthole was of exceptional width. How she managed to absorb something that monstrous puzzled me. Her partner's condom and her expanded anus were lubricated, yet completing that connection seemed an extraordinary feat. Sherry ostensibly loved it. The rhapsodic smile on her face alluded to her pleasure. Naturally, her partner grunted with satisfaction when cramming himself into those splendidly narrow quarters.
Darlene and Cynthia took time out from men. I discovered them in a sixty-nine. Girl-on-girl situations were a popular theme at Fantasy Hotline. Male callers frequently requested lesbian adventures. Although none of the girls, to my knowledge, were of that orientation, they happily supplied our customers with sizzling exploits with that very spin.
Darlene lavishly ate Cynthia. Her appetite knew no limits. She devoured that wet pussy as though she hadn't indulged herself for months. Her tongue speared that glistening pulp, dividing those folds with some luxurious swirls.
Cynthia moaned from those ferocious slurps. Her spine arched as she digested the pleasure of her furious tip. Her gorgeous face, framed by those sleek thighs, became lined with tension. She twisted in that tangle of exquisite flesh, pelting Darlene's chin.
Darlene gulped her perfumed drippage. Her blonde mane tumbled over Cynthia's midsection, only to be whipped back before she could down that second mouthful.
Cynthia dove between Darlene's legs and reciprocated. She licked her until Darlene shuddered. The smell of pussy permeated the air.
Hearing the operators weave their same-sex tales was nothing compared to seeing it live. Wow! My cunt seeped from the mesmerizing curl of Darlene's tongue. Part of me wanted to sit on her face and learn what it was all about. The thought of getting into it with another woman aroused me. I suppose at my age, women unlocked their minds to diverse possibilities. The rules changed. Enjoying the body of another female, or letting one pleasure you, wasn't interpreted as taboo.
I felt a warm draft against my neck, followed by a pair of hungry lips. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Someone inadvertently stumbled upon my weak spot. A muscular chest pressed against my back. A pair of hands enclosed my waist and dragged me to a swollen crotch. Something rigid stroked the groove of my ass.
My eyes rolled up in their sockets. Oh, God. One of those biker guys wanted to get it on with me. He rubbed himself to me, feeding me his horny vibrations. The friction of that rigid cock lit my fuse. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I responded to him. His impatient manner intoxicated me.
One hand departed my waist and swerved in front. I moaned as he squeezed my mouth. He stroked my pussy, getting me juicier by the second. I shivered from those demanding fingers.
My immediate reflex was to grope him. I smoothed my palm over that significant lump. The heat of his erection caused me to shake. He protruded heavily from his jeans.
The girls continued to munch on each other. Cynthia clamped her mouth over Darlene's cunt and gulped the abundant juices. There was no shortage of nectar. Even when she lifted her face, more gushed from her pussy.
Darlene slobbered her in return. She nibbled her clit. Cynthia rotated her hips with an agonizing moan. Her darting tongue snagged those damp flaps and pried them apart. She murmured while feeding upon her cunt.
Two bikers watched and jerked off. Per Justine's orders, they donned rubbers in which to spew. Nobody was allowed to simply whip it out without coverage-regardless of who had custody.
I surveyed the girls while that large thumb unfastened the snap to my jeans. I heard my zipper descend. His tongue grazed my ear lobe. Warm air fluttered at my neck. Shivers ran along my spine.
I stroked the bulge in the jeans behind me. The guy was rock-solid. He groaned from my feathery touch. I comprehended his intense need. He seemed equally riled by the girls.
Having opened my jeans, he gained access to my pussy. He dipped into my panties, fondling my bald snatch. I perceived his grunt of approval. Sticking it into a shaved cunt obvious excited him; the strength in his grope illustrated his liking. I sobbed from his abrupt squeeze.
"Yeah," I whispered. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
He dipped into my pussy. My sodden lips yielded to his shifting fingers. I oozed into his palm. Moisture dripped from my hot hole.
His thumb brushed my clit. Strong voltage coursed through the vessels of my being. Pleasure radiated from that point of inflammation. I quivered as he worked my love button.
His mouth resumed its dizzying suck. He attached himself to my neck and brought those luscious sensations to a boil. His lips circled and drew upon my susceptible flesh.
My nipples strained through my T-shirt as a result of his appetizing disturbance. Sensing my mounting pleasure, he bunched my tits until the nubs were in perfect alignment. His masturbating hand was momentarily displaced. I smelled my pussy on his fingers. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. My strawberry douche enhanced my natural scent.
Using those sticky fingers, he caressed my thick stubs. He encompassed my tits with one hand-not because they were small, but that his span was enormous. His coated digits lubricated those hard pebbles. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. My body howled with joy as he stroked me.
His other hand went into my panties. Within seconds, I felt the entrance of two fingers. My jaw dropped as he drilled into my wet snatch. Back and forth he journeyed, moving through hot squish.
I gyrated my hips and moaned. Latching onto those probing digits, I fucked them. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I listened to the slick sounds of my cunt greasing him.
The man sent me into a frenzy.
Darlene and Cynthia were oblivious to my seduction. Their consumption of pussy overwrote their curiosity. They mouthed that tender section, partaking of the spouting nectar.
Weak from his ravaging, I bent over and grasped the back of a chair. My knees threatened to bow. I shoved my ass at him, imploring he do what his body demanded.
He unzipped, then fussed with the rubber. I turned and saw that jutting cock, stuffed in latex, headed toward me. He angled himself for entry, then sank into my cunt. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Nothing rivaled the thrill of penetration. I felt hardness slice into my pussy. My nails dug into the chair. Oh, wow! Adrenaline swept through my body.
Those cum-packed balls spanked my ass. His wallop served as confirmation of his incorrigible lust. That monster yawned in and out of my pussy. Carrying the swollen mass caused me to break into a sweat. A whole lot of man drove into that wet, pulpy space.
The guy fucking me fingered my clit. I was amazed at his skill for hitting the right spot. He had an uncanny rhythm. My clit hummed beneath his circular stroke.
I shoved myself back, looking for more of him. Ohhhhhhhhhh. He put it right where it belonged, where it mattered. My cunt was stuffed with cock. I gyrated my hips, accelerating my intake.
While I got fucked doggie-style, a biker strode up to me. God-I thought bikers fiercely masculine, real men. He wore a leather vest, a pair of hole-ridden jeans and scuffed boots. The dense forest sheltering his chest was damp with sweat. Skull tattoos lined his arms. His hard-on protruded through some revealing rips. I watched him unzip. His thing jutted from his fly, curving to my mouth. A bead of cum oozed from the purplish knob.
I thought he was going to cram that mother down my throat without protection-which would have violated Justine's rule. Before I could blink, he whipped out a rubber and slipped it over that big cock. The veins bulged through its latex surface.
"Suck," the biker commanded. He leaned into my mouth. "Suck."
I did as I was told. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Even wrapped, I discerned his pulsations. I sucked his dick, pulling strongly with my lips. I squashed him with my tongue, then wiggled all around. Clasping his base, I effected a stirring massage. The biker seemed to appreciate my tantalizing tempo. He swayed before me, groaning.
"Christ," he grunted, sliding in and out of my snug ring. "Oh, yeah. Suck me to the root. Ahhhh." He plunged himself until those balls rested on my chin. He held his stem to my lips, then slowly drew back. His prolonged exhalations informed me of his liking for head.
Darlene and Cynthia studied me. I must have missed their shuddering climax. They seemed entertained by my little three-way. I had never revealed that passionate part of myself at the office, so getting a first-hand glimpse of that side of me obviously amused them.
"Maybe we ought to give Barb a shot at the phones," Darlene declared. "She'd keep our callers interested."
"Interested?" Cynthia gave a throaty chuckle. "She'd get them off, big time."
Although I partially listened, the bikers kept me busy. The one from behind kept fucking me with his cock. Ignoring that solid, blunt thing proved impossible. I heard, as well as felt, his thrusts.
I gobbled the one in front to the base. Mmmmm. I caressed his balls while fitting him down my throat. Although I tasted rubber, his salty male essence filled my nostrils. The sweat from his balls and pubic thatch carried an intoxicating aroma.
I realized, after receiving that hard dick, that I was close to cumming. My pussy churned with excitement. Solid male flesh collided with squishy female pulp. Being of ample width, the biker also brushed my clit.
The guy I sucked took note of my disorientation. "She's gonna peak," he told his buddy. "Keep feeding it to her, man. Fuck that hot pussy. Ram it. Yeah." He cupped the back of my head, pistoning his hips. "Stay with it, baby. I'm about to jizz."
I merely drew on the rotund head. Coiling my fingers about his base, I masturbated his latex hooded cock. He trembled as I increased my speed of jerking.
His mouth dropped open. His jaw hung as though suspended by wire. "Oh, yeah. I'm gonna squirt, baby. Oh, yeah. Don't stop."
I did the best I could. Weakness, unfortunately, flooded me. The cock spearing my cunt knocked me cold. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. He rubbed my deep, inner walls. My reaction to that tugging and pushing sent me over the edge. I tightened around him, then spasmed.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm," I whimpered against the cock in my mouth.
The biker slipped from my pumping lips. I continued to massage him. "Arrggghhhhhhhhhh. Uggghhhhhhhhh. Uggghhhhhhhhh."
The front of his condom swelled with his jetting load. He wrenched in my fist, spewing. If he hadn't worn a rubber, my face would have surely been splattered.
"Jesus," the other gasped, shuddering with orgasm. Buried in my cunt, he gyrated his hips to gain benefit of the friction. He twitched in my pussy while discharging. "Uggghhhhhhhhhhhh. Uggghhhhhhhhhhhhh."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I don't remember how many other guys I fucked and sucked. Dazed by orgasm, I went from one man to the next without discrimination. I randomly took my pleasure.
By the time I got home, however, I underwent severe depression. Although physically elated from the great sex and emotionally satisfied from the attention I'd received, something disturbed me. Images of the faceless men I'd pleased swirled around me.
At three-thirty in the morning, I dialed Richie's number. I woke him up. His groggy voice came on the line. "Where the hell were you?"
I told him about Justine's party and the bikers.
When finished, I began sobbing. Tears poured from my eyes. "Richie, I'm turning into a slut."
Richie spoke softly. His tone pacified me. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Barb."
"I've never had so much sex in one night. I must have been with ten guys."
"Whew. You really went on a bender."
"Don't rub it in. I feel awful about it."
He let out a whistle. "Tim must have neglected you in bed in all these years. To crave that much, he must have starved you. Either that, or he was physically inadequate."
I wiped away my tears. "He was of normal size and did make me happy. Sure, we didn't fuck a great deal-he studied too damn often. It's the attention I'm getting. I'm hooked on it."
"The attention?"
"Tim kept his nose in a textbook. I could have sat on the fucking television set without a stitch and he wouldn't have glanced in my direction. After years of that kind of detachment, it's comprehensible why things have evolved in this fashion."
He snorted. "Sounds to me like you've isolated the problem."
"Don't laugh at me," I snapped. "I didn't call so you could poke fun."
"I'm sorry. You know I wouldn't purposely ridicule you. Look, get some sleep. You're obviously in overdrive. Everything seems more dramatic when you're beyond exhaustion. I mean, ten guys, for crissakes-"
"Let's not split hairs over it, pal."
"You can't call someone up in the middle of the night and not expect to get a punchy reception."
I sighed. "Thanks for listening."
"I hope I set your mind at ease."
In replacing the phone, I mentally reviewed my actions. The thirst for attention was primarily the reason for my outrageous conduct, but the underlying rationale had to do with two guys I wanted most: Michael and John.
Yes, I thought. They were the ones I yearned for above all the others. Why was I wasting my time chasing after imitations when I hungered for the real thing?
My lips curved.
When Friday rolled around, those two were in for a surprise.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As expected, John brought his girlfriend Wendy to the bar. He checked me out from a distance. The guy had nerve. If I had been Wendy, I would have cracked him one.
Since I wanted to be ogled, I loved it.
Michael showed up, as well as Bernie. I had to downplay Bernie's puppy dog gaze. Visions of the previous week in that alley had yet to dim. He'd gotten my number from somebody and left two messages on my machine. I omitted answering them. Though sweet, Bernie wasn't the guy of my dreams. I didn't want to lead him on. Our belly-slapping fuck had been unforgettable, but wasn't enough to build a relationship.
Barbara, I coached myself prior to leaving for Spencer's, you 're forty years old. You 're not going to retain your sexy looks indefinitely. You know what you want! Stick to those guys who attract your eye rather than make substitutions. For months, you have gone to the bar and alternately lusted for Michael and John. Your hormones are attuned to them. Your body screams for their flesh. Treat yourself to those experiences you yearn for most, and forget about the rest.
Enough said, I donned my black silk blouse with the top buttons undone. Mmmmmmmmm. The cleavage was plentiful. The black jeans I squeezed myself into were possibly a size too small; the effect, however, was riveting. They were so tight, they looked as though I'd painted them on. They painfully spread my cunt lips. I sprayed myself with an alluring perfume-adding a few squirts behind the ears and in my luscious cleft.
For added effect, I attached my handcuffs through my belt loop. They clinked as I seductively swayed.
I assessed my appearance. A wicked smile formed. I crooked my finger and effected a vixen's stance. Oh, baby, come to Mama!
Richie whistled when he saw me. "You're looking hot, Barb. If we get in a car accident on the way there, you'll know who was at fault."
I giggled at his compliment. "Just as long as John and Michael notice."
"They will. Count on it."
Michael glanced at me, but remained aloof. Drooling over a woman cramped his style. He preferred to challenge Richie and Bernie to a game of pool rather than encourage me.
John, however, found it difficult to avert his gaze. His eyes consistently wandered in my direction. Unable to curb the impulse, he eventually surrendered to it. I read his famished expression-the need for hot sex. We had unfinished business, he and I.
I snickered. Wendy remained detached from my critical observation. How did that wisp of a girl satisfy a hungry man like that? Was she a dead fuck? Did she know what to do with it?
Given the naked desire etched in John's features, I was disinclined to believe it.
I boldly strutted over to him. I projected the notion, "Come and get it-if you dare." My tits bounced as I walked. My hips swiveled. I threw my hair over my shoulder and assumed a defiant position. I looked very much the vamp.
John swallowed roughly as I made my approach. Wendy, sipping her glass of Chablis, politely nodded.
"John," I said in a no-nonsense tone, "did you pick up the new issue of Tattoo Worldwide?""
My question was plainly a ruse. I knew of John's fascination with that particular magazine. We discussed it at length over many a beer. Tattoos held appeal for him. Once in a while, we swapped copies. John subscribed to several, but Tattoo Worldwide remained his favorite.
He blinked, then shook his head. "I haven't seen it at the newsstand. As a matter-of-fact, they didn't have the last couple."
"I have them all."
"Oh? Did you bring them with you?"
"No, they're at my apartment. It's a quick ride from here, if you'd care to make the trip."
His Adam's apple rippled. The prospect of running off with me visibly excited him. The beer vibrated in his mug. He glanced at Wendy. "Would you mind? "
She smiled. "Of course not. I know how much you enjoy that magazine. Go get them."
He shrugged, then turned to me. "Great. I'm parked in front."
Richie was about to take his shot at the ball when he saw me sashay out the door with John. He sent me a wary look, as though wagging his finger.
I giggled in retort.
John fully expected me to attack him in his car. That didn't happen. I was on my best behavior during our journey. Sitting close to the door, I manufactured all kinds of inane things about the latest tattoos. I'd done my reading. For several days, I had scanned the articles so that I could speak knowledgeably. My endless spouting worked. John eventually accepted our mission to be of honest intent. I gave no conflicting indication-nothing that could be accidentally misconstrued.
He did make a grab for me after turning the corner. I instantly retreated from his clutches. "Excuse me," I snipped, "but you do have a girlfriend."
"Since when does that matter?"
"I don't want a cheater."
We left it at that.
When we arrived at my apartment, his ardor had sufficiently cooled. My frigid reception had been officially recognized. John made no further attempt to touch me, nor secure my consent.
I perpetuated the illusion of innocence. We walked to the door, through the lobby, and waited for the elevator. Nothing in my manner put him on notice. I managed to launch a new discussion about the latest tattoos adopted by bikers. He seemed fairly interested in my grasp of the subject.
My handcuffs clicked at my side. I shivered in anticipation.
The elevator doors parted. I stepped inside and beckoned him to follow. I wondered if he recalled the last time we were in that small enclosure, making out. He registered nothing. I had done an outstanding job dismissing hope for a sexual outcome.
We began our ascent. The elevator steadily rose from floor to floor, creaking with its burden. I waited until we were halfway there. Extending my arm, I hit the Emergency Stop button. John squinted.
"We're not here for those fucking magazines," I purred, "and you know that." He trembled.
I flounced to him, pressing my tits into his chest. My nipples became distended before they made contact. Ohhhhhhhhh. I covered his mouth with my lips, then smashed my mound to his crotch. Slowly, I rotated my hips.
He groaned. His hands surrounded my waist. He pulled me tightly to him. I felt his cock grow.
I inserted my tongue in his mouth and gave him a dizzying kiss. I probed his warmth. Mmmmmm. I wanted him to know to whom he truly belonged-and received no argument. His breathless reception affirmed that ruling.
I had him backed to the wall. My ego soared at having overtaken that twenty-one-year-old, hot-blooded Italian. He may have settled many a battle with his fists, but he melted in my arms. Our rhythm became evenly matched. He ground himself into my sensitive pubis. Ohhhhhhh. Had I concentrated, I could have cum. That, however, would have thrown my plan into chaos. I needed to maintain control of the situation.
I rejoiced while caressing those enlarged biceps. I loved John's thrilling physique. He physically aroused me. I could scarcely wait to capture his muscular form with my soft, clinging limbs.
During those stifling moments, I suspended time. I rubbed my wet pussy over that stiff cock. He sensed he would soon be in it. I planted that seed with every voracious shove, every muffled sob.
"I want you so bad," I whimpered between kisses. I'd thrown myself into a swelter. "Ohhhhhh. I can't stop thinking about it."
He began to unbuckle his pants.
"No," I whispered. "Not here. Let's go upstairs. I want you naked in my bed."
He gripped me by the shoulders and shook me. I perceived a flash of hostility. "What are you trying to do?" he growled in a low voice. "Seduce me? Is that why you brought me here? Huh?"
I nodded. "You've got that right." I stroked the bulge in his pants. "What are you going to do about it?"
"You fucking tease."
My touch seared him. He trembled as I caressed that swollen cock. He needed me as desperately as I needed him. He abandoned his argument.
I silenced him with a kiss. Our lips quivered upon coming together. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. I explored his mouth with my tongue. He clutched my ass, then dragged me tightly to his body. His hard dick burrowed into my mound. I gasped from its fierce throb.
Simultaneously, I released the Emergency switch. The elevator resumed its ascent.
I painted myself the conniving, mercenary bitch. I succeeded in luring John to my apartment while his girlfriend waited at the bar. If someone had done that to me, I would have raised my claws. Since it was the other way around, I savored my triumph.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I had John all to myself.
I ruled it temporary insanity, precipitated by lust. I was unaccountable for my actions, simply on those grounds.
John burned with a raging fever when we staggered through my door. Tumbling into bed was imperative. We stripped off our clothes, anxious to get started. I could tell from his feral gape that he had envisioned a second rendezvous for a long time. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. He wanted very badly to give me his seven inches.
Shirtless, he looked magnificent. His smooth, rugged chest nearly stopped my heart. Wow! His enhanced abdominals drove my appetite. When he dropped his pants and I saw his cock straining through his briefs, my pussy dripped. I recalled how it tasted that first time. Mmmmmmmmmm. Even though I stuck a strawberry-flavored condom on him, I'd licked his balls and the plump stem. My sole regret was being able to not swallow his jism. In the whirlwind of today's madness, taking precaution was wisest.
He insisted upon undressing me. I read the delight in his features as he undid the buttons of my blouse. My nipples were stiff peaks, aching for his suck. He covered one with his mouth and drew strongly upon it. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I arched my spine, whimpering. Totally aroused, I showed it.
I yanked his dick while he sucked me. That shaft was alive with lust. I relished its palpitations. A drop of cum seeped from the tip.
"Better put one on me," he hoarsely said.
I nodded.
Several of those strawberry condoms were left. John stood calmly while I covered his inflamed member. I watched that conglomeration of veins and flesh disappear behind the pink colored wrapper. Even enclosed, John's dick curved high, defying gravity. A section of his cock remained exposed. I panted at that manly shaft, then fondled his balls.
"Get on the bed," he croaked.
I shook my head. "I want you on your back."
"Huh?"
I picked up my pair of handcuffs and shook them. "Are you man enough to take the challenge?"
"How am I supposed to touch you?"
"With your mouth." I squeezed my pussy. "You're going to make me smile down there, baby-as in, 'ladies first.' Get the picture?"
A grin took shape on his face. "Yeah."
John got on his back and stretched his arms. I manacled one wrist, slipped the chain around the grill of my bedpost, then enclosed the other. John looked appetizingly subdued. Mmmmmmm. His pecs stood high and firm. The muscles of his upper arms rippled. As his knee went up, I watched the sinew shift in his thigh. He resembled a wild animal recently brought into captivity.
The most notable aspect was his upright cock. It stood in the air, anxious for me to have a seat. Although insulated, I wanted to experience a twenty-one-year-old dick within my forty-year-old snatch.
John stared at my tits. He seemed mesmerized with them. Whether I squeezed them into a formfitting T-shirt, or donned a silk blouse with half the buttons undone, John salivated over them. Perfuming my cleavage accentuated his pursuit.
He struggled with the cuffs, eager to pounce upon them. The concept of being bound slowly occurred to him. I held him in bondage.
I climbed onto his lap. His vertical cock skimmed my shaved pussy. I took it in my hand and stroked him. He throbbed in my grip. Oh, yeah. I could feel his excitement building.
"Go easy," he muttered. "If you don't stop, I'm going to jizz."
"Relax," I purred, caressing his nipples. He shuddered as I passed over them. I felt the tension collecting in him. "We'll take it slowly."
He nodded.
I lowered a tit straight into his mouth. His lips rippled over the pink border before suction developed. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I writhed on his lap, enjoying that sweet pull. His teeth tenderly scraped my nipple while his tongue lavished it with spittle. Ohhhhhhhhh. That bubbly rinse caused me to moan.
I encompassed his head with trembling hands. Sweat poured from his brow. I caught his satiated expression while he sucked on me. His dark brown pupils bore that faraway look, as though he were in another world. After sufficiently moistening one fleshy stub, he sought the other. I helped in securing it to his mouth. Once again, pleasure hummed through my body. I jerked the manly swell smothered in my palm, savoring its rigidity.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm," he groaned. His tongue circled, then slashed my nub. His lips rotated at each end, leaving bubbly formations when complete.
"They're yours," I wailed, cramming additional tit meat between his lips with a lurch. "Take them. Ohhhhhhhhh. Suck them."
I was soaking wet, anxious to hump that hard dick. I ached for it. I wildly lusted for him.
I enjoyed watching my tit go into his mouth. He engaged each with such fervor, I sobbed. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I could feel the want in each pinch. When one nipple left his mouth, it dripped with froth. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. He took the other with comparable intensity.
The graze of my fingertips obviously excited him. He buckled as I wandered his athletic physique. He voraciously consumed my proffered nipples. His sucking made me dizzy and weak. He drew powerfully on those enlarged tips, causing them to throb.
Finally, I got a hold of him. I trapped that seven-inch cock in my fist. I stroked him, priming it for my hot, clinging squish. There was a whole lot of man to envelope. John's trunk was thick, tapering to a plump bulb. As I pulled on that engorged member, a pearl of jism oozed from the tip. The knob of his cock was nearly purple with excitement.
"I want to feel you," he muttered. His wrists tugged at their restraints.
"You know which part of yourself to use."
John's saliva trickled from my well-sucked nubs. Caressing my inflamed body, I shook. Ohhhhhh. The rotations of my thumbs over my silky thighs caused an increase in temperature. I trembled beneath that flow. I delved between my legs, opening those juicy lips.
A seductive mist pinched his nostrils. He rolled his head from one side to the other, inhaling my scent. After a second, his dark eyes peered at me. "Sit on my face, baby. Let me drink from that pussy."
"Yeah," I said, crawling over it. "Lick me, John. Excite me with your thirst."
"Barb," he muttered, as my mound descended. His Adam's apple stirred. He stuck his nose through that luscious patch, then darted at the moist lips. Juice seeped from the opening. The scent of my desire wafted. John could scarcely contain himself. He licked my succulent snatch. "Mmmmmmm." He traced the pink sides with his tongue, collecting droplets, then downed them.
"Ohhhhhhhh," I moaned, pitched breathlessly over his parched expression. I gyrated my hips, offering cunt to that eager mouth. His tongue flickered over my sluiced flesh before it submerged into my slit. He ascended its quivering layers. "Oh, God. Ohhhhhhhhhhh."
John sliced into my sappy innards, culling them of honey. He lapped my cunt lips, leaving a trail of saliva that curled my toes. He lavished me with oral love. I couldn't get enough of his festive tip, dabbing and streaming over my pussy.
For a young guy, he knew how to eat pussy fairly well. I wondered if he practiced on his girlfriend Wendy. No doubt she had been the recipient of that furious tip. Who wouldn't want those frantic strokes? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Just feeling it whip at my love button brought the urge to cum.
Ecstatically, I rode his face. I arched my spine and raised my erect nipples to the ceiling. I trembled as he slid high into my pussy, siphoning my juices. His pupils glazed over as he feasted upon my abundant secretions. He took huge gulps of my honey. Oh, yeah. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. The starved revolutions of a twenty-one-year-old male were vastly satisfying.
I was definitely in heaven.
He eventually surrounded my clit, carefully planning his assault. John's style built to a crescendo. He swirled and lashed extravagantly before nearing that swollen bud. I trembled as he made his approach. A sudden lick summoned a surge of adrenaline. Another arrived, lasting slightly longer. It was the third that registered with vibrating force. He tongued my love button so intensely, my spine curved.
"Ohhhhhh," I yelped, clawing his shoulders. "Ohhhhhhhhhh. Don't stop."
My slim thighs rocked around his head. My juices were gulped noisily, his thirst unquenchable. He slithered into that nectar-rich pocket and cleaned me. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. After soaking his tip, he swallowed, then returned to my clit. A flurry of licks ensued. He drove me insane with that practice.
I watched him devour me. His dark brown eyes seemed glossy. He was quite involved in sucking my juices. He derived satisfaction from my endless supply. I could tell of his happiness by the fierce attachment of his lips. He truly enjoyed giving me head.
"You really like eating pussy, don't you?" I murmured. "Oh, yeah. Drink me. Clean me with that frenzied tongue. Warm me up for that big cock. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. I'm going to sit on it and rock you to paradise."
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," was his muffled retort. His muscles rippled.
We made the bed springs sing from our hysterical shifting. I humped his face until they shrieked a snappy tune. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Sweat dripped from my nipples, narrowly missing him.
I couldn't take much more of his jabbing tongue. I aimed my clit at that vigorous tip, knowing full well I was about to spasm. John remained on that hard pebble until my breath came up short and my features contorted. By reflex, I bore down and smashed myself to his cheeks and chin. He tongue-fucked my pussy, sinking into me until his lips were molded to my pink flesh. I trembled, swallowing roughly and began my climb. I couldn't elude the urge for orgasm. He wiggled madly inside my cunt while his lips brushed my aggravated clit. When he yanked himself from that slippery clasp and concentrated wholly on slurping my love button, I rose another notch. Waves of pleasure swam through my body. My mouth dropped open, but I couldn't exhale. Ohhhhhhh. I couldn't utter a sound.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," I heard John, going at it as though he hadn't achieved his fill.
The furious stroke of his tongue furnished a shuddering orgasm. I thrashed wildly the second he made me peak. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. I screamed with joy. John lapped me to ecstasy. His mouth remained attached to my cunt throughout the stunning barrage.
"Oh, John," I wailed, buckling against his face. "Ohhhhhhhhhh. Oh, my God. You're making me cum. Oh, yeah, baby. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh."
He continued to play with my clit, accentuating my joy. It pulsed while I contracted.
At length, I climbed off his mouth. I quivered, shuddering with orgasm. My nipples ached from that delirious outburst. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I nursed them with my fingertips, jerking. They smarted from that swirling contact. My flesh tingled nicely.
I gazed at John. He exuded lust. He pulled at his shackles, demanding freedom. His cock, furiously upright, seemed hungry for pussy.
"You want to fuck me, don't you?" I teased.
Swallowing, he nodded.
I lifted myself over the bulb of his cock. I winced when its helmet bumped my mound. After a moment's adjustment, I positioned him for entry. We were in perfect alignment. His heavy knob was nestled at my moist slot.
I could scarcely wait to swallow that twenty-one-year-old dick in my cunt. "Let's stick it where it belongs," I huskily said. "I want to enjoy you with my pussy."
Slowly, I sank onto him and emitted a startled cry. I never got over the initial high of penetration. Feeling a cock enter me-particularly for the first time-afforded a sweet rush. I loved absorbing John's thick member. I savored our union. Ohhhhh. He gritted his teeth while cramming his dick into me. My pussy gladly took him. My snatch enclosed that burrowing shaft, greasing him as I dropped over each consecutive inch.
"Christ," John gasped, pausing to reclaim his breath. "You're crushing me, baby. You're sealing me in that hot pussy. Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
"Wow. You're so hard. I love that," I whispered, luxuriating from his awesome fit. "Ohhhhhhhh."
John was huge, commanding every bit of space I had to offer. He sliced into my warm, wet cunt, affording me a spiraling thrill. As we approached the stem of his cock, I whimpered. John was most ample there. I sobbed while he strained my pussy to its limit. Obliging that plump section caused me to wriggle and sweat.
"You're so fucking hot, Barb," he grunted, keeping himself embedded. "I knew it would be good. Your teasing whet my appetite, but this is even better. Oh, yeah." His features contorted. "Fuck me. Hump me with that snug pussy. Oh, yeah. Ride me."
I watched his chest expand and contract while he pumped me. He dug into my snatch, visibly enjoying its moist tug. I felt the edge of the rubber and that uncovered part of him as I sat. His balls grazed the insides of my thigh. He pushed himself into me with everything he had. Fitting that stiff cock into my pussy stoked my crackling flames of lust. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Temporarily overwhelmed, I shut my eyes and submitted to the dizzying splendor he effected. I thought I was going to pass out.
"This is what you wanted-my fucking cock," he muttered, thrusting into my cunt. His thrusts were measured. He controlled the flow of stimulation that coursed through my body. "You seduced me so you could have it. You schemed so I would fuck you."
"Yes, I did-and you love it, don't you?"
"Christ, yes."
I felt the skin of his cock catch when moving through my slippery folds. John's eyes glazed over as he immersed himself in hot cunt. He groaned while sticking his shaft into my tickling pulp. My warm squish enveloped him.
After experiencing those lush, invigorating sensations, I groped for my nipples. I jerked from that soft tweak. Contact was electrifying. I engaged my stiff peaks in a rousing manner. My digits whispered over them, inspiring their further growth.
Hunger overtook me. Slamming myself to him, that thick cock impaled me. I ached from its movement, yet continued to flail. "Fuck me," I implored. "Fuck me. Yeah. Fuck me."
John obeyed my wish. He charged into me with everything he possessed, lured by the fire in my voice. My saturated cunt ferociously consumed him. That dick pried me open, thrusting wildly to the bottom of my snatch. I hugged myself to his cunt-starving body, permitting him to spear my sopping tissue. He lunged into my soaked crevice, then pulled out all but his bloated crown. In the next instant, he pierced me. I moaned, taking him whole. He fucked through the knot I manufactured. I crushed him as best I could, willing my inner muscles to smother that pulsating mass.
"Oh, God, baby," he croaked from my sizzling exertions. "Jesus Christ."
I shoved my pussy at him. I cried out from the smarting of his cock. My squeals forwarded his excitement. He rammed into me, his balls slapping my ass.
"More," I pleaded. "More. Fuck me. Yes. Ohhh. That's it."
A profusion of sweat welled from his brow. John's face was flush, the corners of his mouth twitching. When he jammed his cock in my heated core, I felt the quiver of his loins. He was about to shoot.
"I want you to cum," I ordered. "Cum in me. I want you to explode in my cunt."
I provoked him with a frenzied wiggle. My tits bounced, sweat flicking from my erect nipples. I was out of control, seeking release. He went on pumping me with that big dick, watchful of my orgasm. John gave me all the hardness I needed to get off. Slamming his heels into the mattress, he forced me to gallop on that swollen dick. Whoa! He was making it happen for me!
His pleasure became final with one powerful thrust. I watched him shudder before he took me with him. I spasmed around his cock. He shuddered. I could tell hot cum filled his rubber in that fracturing moment.
"Uggghhhhhhhh," he howled, yanking at his chains. I thought he was going to break the slats of my headboard with his violent spasms. "Uggghhh. Uggghhhhh. Ugghhhhhhhhh."
My second orgasm was even stronger. I convulsed heavily during his gooey accumulation. John smacked into my snatch, nailing me with that rigid monster. I clasped him with my pussy, milking his cock. He squirted into his condom, his features gnarled.
"Oh, yeah," I hoarsely commanded. "Cream in your rubber, baby. You wish it was my pussy. You wish you could flood me, don't you? Oh, yeah."
"Yeah," he groaned. "I want to make you sticky with my jism." He rammed that thing into my snatch. All I received was slick rubber. His load, however, had safely reached its designated compartment.
After he fully discharged, I took John in his arms. My mouth went over his. I probed him with my tongue. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. We stayed connected. I was glad his cock didn't get soft. I wanted to fuck him some more.
He peered meaningfully in my eyes. I knew he yearned for me to be his exclusively, that Michael or Bernie wouldn't touch me.
I wondered if he would give up his girlfriend for me. That would be the ultimate ego trip--breaking up a twenty-one-year-old from the lover his age.
His smoldering resentment didn't prevent him from fucking me again. He started moving slowly through my cunt, prepared for another session.
I began humping him again.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"You went too far," Richie admonished. "I did not."
"You behaved recklessly, Barb-leaving that poor girl at the bar with the impression you'd return momentarily. You never came back. Bernie gave her a lift home." He let out a sigh. "I hope your night in heaven was worth breaking up a good relationship."
I gasped into the phone after a moment of stunned silence. "Did I cause them to split?"
"I have no idea. If it had happened to me, I'd kick your ass."
"As the old saying goes, it takes two to tango. He wasn't quite the Boy Scout on the way to my apartment. His hands were all over me."
"Can you blame him? You freely offered your snatch. What man would take a pass on that?"
"Gee, Richie," I giggled, "are you trying to tell me something?"
"Huh?"
"If I pinched your ass, would you jump me?"
"Cut the bullshit, Barb. I'm serious. You took advantage of him. You're old enough to be his mother. I would have expected you to be morally responsible."
"Quit busting my chops! You feed my ego just as much as the guys in the bar. You keep telling me how hot I am, that they'd be lucky to get a piece. Now you sermonize me about acting cheap. I simply went after who I truly wanted. What I did was no different from something you'd pull."
"What?"
"Like, you don't take chicks home and fuck their brains out? You're on the prowl, too. What about the redhead you gave rug burns to a few weeks ago? Huh? Or that blonde who sucked you off in the parking lot?"
"How did you know about that?"
"How else? I watched."
"Jesus Christ!"
"John may be young, but he's not under age. He's master of his castle. He knows what he wants, and it isn't that scrawny bitch."
"Fine. Do what you want, just don't tell me about it. I won't be party to your vicious schemes."
Richie's ultimatum shocked me. We'd been friends for ages. I'd known him for more than thirty years. Richie and I went back. We had a long history. He'd always been there for me. "You don't mean that, babe."
"You bet I do. I'm not going to Spencer's anymore. You can go by yourself. I've had it."
I was about to argue my point, but the line went dead.
Richie hung up on me!
"Okay, Richie," I snarled. "I don't need you-or your fucking double standards-either. To hell with you!"
I couldn't tolerate the thought of remaining at my apartment another minute. I wanted human interaction, not the dismal drone of the television. Going to Spencer's crossed my mind. Saturdays, however, weren't the same. Fridays, guys went to the bar with their buddies to pound beers and check out the babes; Saturdays were reserved for dating. A different crowd populated Spencer's-one to which I couldn't relate.
I slipped into some sexy duds: a low-cut blouse, shorts and a pair of spikes. I applied make-up and sprayed myself with an alluring perfume. To complete the picture, I added hoop earrings and an ankle bracelet. Afterward, I checked out my mouth-watering appearance in the mirror.
If only John or Michael could see me, I thought-they'd cum in their pants.
Having ruled out Spencer's, I decided to head down the street to the video arcade. Many good-looking guys went there to play the machines. Even if I didn't score some cock, I could drool over their cutes asses.
I mulled over Richie's harsh words. Ha! There was no fucking way I was going to sit home and gracefully grow old. I was forty and not getting any younger. I wasted years hoping Tim would land a decent job so that we could marry. I neglected my needs far too long. This was my time, a second chance to recapture my lost youth. I was in my sexual prime. My craving for sex was stronger than ever. I aimed to fully enjoy myself, without the guilt.
I strutted into the video arcade as though I owned the place. Having made hundreds of entrances at Spencer's, I had it down pat. Men stopped what they were doing and stared. An outbreak of drool occurred the second my spikes hit the parquet floor.
Oh, yeah. Come to Mama!
Guys in their twenties and thirties thronged the room. The noise level was deafening. Lights flashed all around me. Cigarette smoke created a dull haze throughout the room. Arcade games of every description were in use. I had never seen so many varieties-but then, I was a pinball buff.
Video diversions were foreign to me.
No sooner had I entered the premises, but a familiar face swam before me: Michael's! Oh, God! I couldn't believe my luck! He was in a white tank top, displaying his muscles. A colorful neckerchief was fastened about his head. That compact butt moved in tempo with the souped-up pinball machine he manned. The electronic clamor it produced was double that of the one at Spencer's.
I sashayed up to him, clicking my heels. He registered no surprise at seeing me. I bumped him with my hips until he acknowledged my presence.
"What's up, doll?" he asked, almost aggravated that I spoiled one of his maneuvers.
"Nothing much," I sassed, checking out the front of his jeans, "but then again, the night is young."
He grinned while jockeying the ball with an occasional smack. I watched his buttocks limber up as he sent it on its strobe light journey. "Want to play?"
"Mmmmmmmm. I'd rather just watch." He probably recognized from my sexual lilt that I made him my focus. In studying his ass, I recalled the way in felt in my hands while he pumped me. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. I loved caressing it while he thrusted that swollen cock into my pussy. He made me cum so hard.
Unconsciously, I leaned against him. My body thirsted for physical contact. My crotch brushed his hand. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. My pussy itched for cock.
The video arcade was jammed. Those operating the machines no longer watched me-especially since I was with a guy. Coins were noisily fed into slots. Bells clanged and music poured into the congested atmosphere. People stared at the computer screens, monitoring the progress of the current contestant while waiting their turn.
Michael grew bold. He chose to delve into my shorts and enclose my mound. His casual reach shocked me. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. His grip on me increased. I felt that ticklish surge down to my toes. "Not here," I whispered.
Michael made no attempt to stop. He continued to play, one-handed. He used his hip to manipulate the ball to his satisfaction.
"Oh, God," I moaned as he probed me. "Ohhhh."
"Is that what you needed, babe?" he muttered, grabbing my snatch. His massage set me on fire. "Love with the proper finger?"
"We're going to get thrown out of here," I murmured, twisting in my heels.
"Relax. You worry too much."
He dipped into my panties. I trembled as he divided my pussy lips. Oh, God! He encountered droplets clinging to those heavy borders while keeping an eye on his score. Michael maintained control of the ball and me, splitting his concentration evenly.
My nipples hardened beneath my blouse. Those nubs made mouth-watering indentations behind their silk coverage. Getting taken by surprise-and in public-underscored my pleasure.
After spending considerable time savoring my slippery flesh, Michael fingered my moist lips. My cunt opened for him. He sank a digit into my juicy center.
"Oh, Michael," I gasped, gritting my teeth and clutching him. That thrill shook me. I glanced around me, praying we weren't seen. Thus far, we had escaped detection. Heads did not turn at our suggestive embrace. My sobs mingled with the artificial sounds produced by the games. My nipples protruded from my blouse.
"You like it, don't you?" he teased.
Swallowing, I nodded. He served one illicit refreshment after another.
He ran his finger through my sappy cunt. I trembled from that persistent jabbing. Christ, it felt good. I stabbed the parquet flooring with my high heels, then ground them until holes almost resulted. My ragged breathing proved how much I relished it.
"Look how slick your pussy got," he said. "Oh, yeah. It likes a little finger-fucking, huh? Almost as good as the real thing."
He thumbed my clit while shifting through my layers of oily pulp. His tip curled just beneath my swollen button, then flicked it. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Shivers ran up and down my spine. My air supply was instantly endangered; recovering my breath appeared futile.
"Michael," I whined, trembling. "Ohhhhh."
I became unhinged by the bubbling disturbance in my loins. Resonant moans emerged from the depths of my throat. I panted at the exploration of his digit and its stimulating motion. Ohhhhhh. My hips gyrated, sucking him into my pussy. His steady prod through my warm squish overwhelmed me. "Michael," I squealed, oozing onto his hand, "if you keep doing that, you'll make me cum."
He became more vigorous. "That's what you want, doll: to cream beside me."
I clung to his side, afraid I would fall. His agitation left me weak and wanting. I clutched his wrist, attempting to take command of my senses. He went on to fuck my drenched cunt. Ohhhhhhh. My jaw dropped as his stunning momentum engulfed me.
Michael catapulted a new ball on the track while I climaxed. Never once did his eyes leave the game. "Ohhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh. Oh, God."
His contact with my sensitive membranes prolonged my shuddering. I sobbed as he darted at the contracting walls of my pussy. His investigation generated my delirium.
Once reclaiming my wits, I craved reciprocation. I enclosed his crotch. The solid bulge in Michael's pants captured my attention. I thumbed that impressive shape, noting my climbing hunger.
God, I badly wanted his cock!
Michael groaned appreciatively as I fondled him. He did not bother detaching his finger from me. I moaned from its enduring jiggle. His unbroken nudge inspired me.
After making me cum like that, I didn't give a shit if anybody saw. I was crazed with lust-and thirsty for a hot, creamy beverage. Of course, I had no intention of drinking his jism. Those strawberry-flavored condoms were inside my purse.
I went down on my knees and put my face between his legs. Mmmmmmmmmm. I stared at that manly formation. His erection provoked my lust. I loved watching a cock stiffen, particularly if I was responsible for its condition. Nothing rivaled pure, animal desire. I smoothed my palm over his lump, savoring its palpitations.
Mmmmmmmmm. Michael responded strongly to my feline touch. His bulge was receptive to my designs.
I deliberately took my time unzipping him. I was in no rush to pull him out. My protracted intervals were aimed at magnifying his ardor. Michael wasn't going to receive my mouth in a slobbering hurry.
Voices, music and computerized noises obliterated Michael's groan when I maneuvered him from his jeans. I gazed heatedly at the swollen cock that stood proudly from his fly. Michael was a mouthful and a half. Gathering him in my fist, I effected a titillating stroke. His dick gave a hearty throb. Unable to contain the impulse, I lapped the velvety head. Mmmmmm. Michael's manly flavor aggravated my taste buds. I licked him more thoroughly, circling the fleshy rim and dabbing at his cum slit. His tremors were more pronounced as I lavished him with spit.
"Yeah," he puffed while I puckered him. "Wet it down. Use that sweet tongue."
He probably figured I was going to forego the rubber. Wrong! My initial licks were simply for titillation. Now that I had satisfied my curiosity in slurping him, I glided it over his domed cockhead, then tugged it down his length. Three-quarters of that monster received shelter-the rest of him was mine to adore unchecked.
I situated myself in front of him so he could maintain the illusion of playing the pinball machine. In the shadows, I was somewhat camouflaged.
My slurps spanned the measure of his cock, from the bulbous head to the pulsing base. I slipped my lips around his bloated crown and vibrated my tongue. I drew deeply on that part of him, squeezing and sucking. Mmmmmmm. I wished some of his pre-cum would enter my mouth, but the rubber obstructed its flow. My cunt oozed with desire as I swallowed his cock. I took that warm, beating mass down my throat. Michael's gasp was heard above the din as I lingered at the stem of his dick. I rubbed his balls with my lips, then slowly ascended.
I unbuttoned my blouse, eager to get my tits around that thing. Michael glanced down to see my bared nipples. His Adam's apple stirred at the sight of my delectable pink nuggets.
"Wrap them about my cock," he hoarsely instructed. His hands trembled at the game controls. Pretending to be ensconced in a game became a daunting effort. His features reddened as I lusciously engaged him. "Oh, yeah, doll. Ahhhhh."
I smiled. I was on the same frequency. I fit that hard dick inside those billowy globes, making sure his plump knob protruded. He thudded heavily in my cleavage. I massaged him with my tits until he evoked a guttural sigh. My cushiony flesh tugged at his taut skin. I shifted lazily at his lap, feeling the rotations of his balls.
I was oblivious to the commotion we started. I refused to be bothered by the startled glances of others. Michael and I were constructing a fantasy, one fragment at a time. Bringing it to a pleasing conclusion was essentially my job.
I fashioned my tits about his stiff cock, my nipples in plain view. I pulled them together until they touched. The constriction was intended to rile him. Michael elevated himself on his toes, fucking through the tunnel I created. It felt good, having his rigid thing moving through that space.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," I moaned, writhing before him. "Yeah. Fuck my tits."
His cockhead darkened behind the pink-shaded rubber from the delicious conflict. I gave it some mouth. My lips moistly encompassed him in a wake of warmth and bubbles. I sucked hard on him, willing his cum to surge. Meanwhile, I kneaded his dick with my tits.
Michael's hand mindlessly slapped the buttons of the machine, then cupped the back of my head. He pushed down, forcing me to gobble him. He wanted to sustain the flow of moisture while my boobs clung to his dick. My flesh cleaved to him.
"I wish I didn't have to wear that damn thing," he croaked. "I want to shoot on your tits."
I said nothing. His cock was in my mouth. I sucked ferociously on it, eager for his pleasure to liquefy. He was still smothered in my boobs, brusquely handled. I thumbed my nipples while caressing him. My excess saliva trickled into my crack, facilitating his movement.
His hands were poised over the buttons of the game. "Christ. I'm going to cum."
I jammed him in my mouth, intensely sucking. His dick shook, then spewed into the rubber.
"Uggghhhhhh," he groaned. "Uggghhhhhhh."
I stroked his dick with my lips while he inflated that end compartment. Jism squirted into its expandable tip. He twitched and jerked, spurting furiously. I stimulated its furious flow with my pumping lips.
I slowly rose to my feet and sought his mouth. Our lips came together for a passionate kiss. His hands slid over my ass. I sobbed from the urgency of his grope. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. He was hungry for more-I could tell.
I placed my hand lightly on his leg and executed a suggestive rhythmic pattern. My fingertips disbursed electricity; even I felt their snap and crackle as they caressed his manly planes.
"Was it good, baby?" I whispered. "Did I make you feel good? Hmmmmmmmmmm?"
Michael clasped the side of my face and steered me to his trembling mouth. He stroked my cheek with his long thumb while slowly devouring my lips. I quivered, barely curbing an urge to reach between his legs. I clasped his thigh, encountering tremors.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," I sobbed, letting him into my mouth. His tongue hunted for mine. He dabbed and provoked with his tip. I pushed my tits heatedly to his chest. My nipples scrubbed him.
He pulled me tightly to his body, scooping my butt. I moaned as those hefty fingers sampled my malleability. I loved being squeezed. Ohhhhhh. I kissed him hotly, encouraging his manipulation.
Michael released one of my cheeks to enclose a tit. I shivered as his thumb revolved about my nipple. An anxiety suffused my groin. My cunt tightened as he handled me. My neck was my principle hot button; the fastest way of getting into my pants was by sucking on it. Michael's instincts were keen. I writhed frantically as he transferred from my stiff nubs to that vulnerable spot. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. My vision blurred as his saliva trickled down my flesh.
I was certain we attracted attention at that moment. My tits were out of my blouse and we were swaying. The noises around me blended into one. Michael's sloppy kisses created a luscious turbulence within my body. I had no way of ascertaining an unwanted audience while he attached those ravenous lips to me.
He wedged me against the pinball machine. I appreciated the support. My knees almost failed me. The tingles he fed me were nonstop.
Michael got me so hot from his tickling grope that I ground my pussy to his rubber-clad cock. I badly needed that friction. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I shook roughly, rubbing him with my mound.
Michael zeroed in on my snatch. The moment his thumb made contact with my delicate flesh, I came. He so completely stimulated me, reaching that shattering level seemed logical. Orgasm roared through me like a high-pitched wind.
"Ohhhhhhh," I cried out. "Ohhhhhhh. Oh, God."
Michael bound me with those muscular arms. The strength with which he held my riddled body was dizzying.
Crazed with lust, I stroked his dick. Michael's cock jutted largely from his pants. The bubble of cum made in his rubber subsided. That gooey excess must have leveled off inside his condom.
I distributed hot, energizing kisses along his neck while groping him. He motivated me with his thrilling rotations of my butt. He took large handfuls of my ass, venturing into the crack. I trembled as he encountered the moist lips of my pussy.
Michael's cock rose steeply from my touch. "Oh, my God," I murmured, gazing at that tall monster. My fingers coiled about that lengthy shaft, pumping it. "Oh, wow. You're so big."
He leaned toward me, spread my legs and dragged me tightly to his horny body. The pinball machine clanged behind me as that wall of muscle crowded me. I steered that heavy cockhead to my snatch. His dick throbbed in my fist. I gasped while fitting him into my sopping entrance. I was juicy, ready to fuck. Once he was lodged in my pussy, I pushed forward.
"Oh, yeah," he muttered, his eyes rolling up in their sockets. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
I jammed myself toward that rigid thing, caught up in its delicious splendor. Ohhhhhhhhh. Michael filled my cunt. I rocked myself over his muscled thighs until he was fully submerged. He reached deep in my pussy. His balls strained against the soaked rim of my cunt.
"Take me," I begged. "Please."
Michael's hands streamed up and down my sweet body. His intense expression revealed his satisfaction. He was at the pinnacle of arousal. His mouth dropped open and his breath came out slowly. "I'm going to ride you, doll-right here for everybody to see."
The pinball machine rattled and groaned beneath his slamming thrusts. Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
My butt bounced off its front. Getting fucked against it was tremendously exciting. He gyrated his hips and sent me crashing into it. I moaned as his dick reached deep into my cunt. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. That hard thing probed my spongy warmth.
"Yeah," he groaned in my ear. His mouth returned to my neck for additional sucking. "Mmmmmmmmmm."
I swung myself with shivering precision. I stroked his pulsing member, smothering it in hot pussy. He shook so savagely, I thought he was going to explode. Michael managed his staying powers well, slicing high into my soaked cunt. I coasted up and down his heavy dick, deriving joy. My undulations provoked his thrusts. He captured my bouncing ass, then stabbed into my squish. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. My pupils curved into the whites of my eyes.
Cling-cling, went the pinball machine. The lights flashed from behind. Cling-cling! Cling-cling!
He groped my flesh, exploring the most sensitive areas and sending spasms of lust through my body. I sustained a mind-rending charge straight to my toes.
I eased myself to his base and twisted my snatch to his balls. I submitted to the hearty pulse I detected. I reversed direction, ascending his shaft until he almost popped out of my cunt, then plunged onto him. He sank smoothly into my slippery folds. I impaled myself again and again, flush and delirious. My pussy hungrily devoured him. Fucking Michael afforded me total satisfaction.
"Fuck me," I whispered amid the wet sounds of cunt attaching to cock. "Fuck me. Oh, yeah. Ohhhhhhhh. Make me cum with it. Ohhhhhhh."
He slid in and out of me, jamming me with his stiff member. Beads of sweat cropped at his brow. He stared blankly into my eyes, surrendering to the lush sensations I produced. To enhance his pleasure, I willed my inner muscles to crush him. He moved with agony through that narrowed passage.
Containing that sweet cock took its toll on me. I orgasmed again. I slammed at him, urging him to spew. Michael accepted my invitation. He spasmed. More jism rocketed into his condom. Ohhhhhhhhhh. We shuddered together for several minutes.
When the fog lifted, I realized we were under intense scrutiny. Dozens of eyes were trained upon us. I'm sure some wondered if they would get a turn.
Not for a quarter, they wouldn't!
CHAPTER NINE
That Friday, I went to Spencer's alone. Richie did not call, nor did he show up when I arrived. Having no other means of transportation, I was forced to take a cab.
Kevin, as usual, waved to me while wiping the bar. He looked puzzled when he found no sign of Richie. We were an odd couple. People didn't readily buy into our platonic relationship.
"You mean-you haven't fucked him?" Bernie once asked, floored by my adamant remark.
"Nope."
"You never even gave him head?"
"Not a single slurp."
After seeing us operate separately, the regular crowd grew accustomed to our simply being friends. They severely noticed his absence. They constantly asked me if Richie was coming. I shrugged with uncertainty.
I didn't like making a solo appearance. Not having Richie at my side disturbed me. I fought off the impulse to call him and beg his forgiveness. I longed for his friendship, yet I refused to bow to his terms.
Shit! We were both forty years old! Why were we acting like kids? At this stage of our lives, we should have been more tolerant of each other's imperfections and let bygones be bygones.
I kept glancing at the door every time it opened, expecting Richie to swagger into the place. A pseudo-apology took shape in my head. I created an acceptable version-or at least one I anticipated would fly. I had two beers before giving up hope. Richie was not going to show.
John and Wendy walked into the bar shortly thereafter. I began to feel uncomfortable. Reminded of my little stunt in which I lured John to my place for some handcuffed sex, I blushed. Richie's lecture about my subjecting Wendy to senseless humiliation echoed through my mind.
I took stock of Wendy. She wore her disappointment well. I perceived no ill-will. She signaled politely to me, then motioned to John that they join me.
Christ, I guiltily thought. I was in no mood to grovel.
John didn't seem keen about the idea, but humored her. I was clueless as to whether he'd confessed his actions. He looked equally confused.
"Did you come by yourself?" she cheerfully explored.
"Yeah. Richie came down with some bug." A bug up his ass, I wanted to expound. "Can I buy you a beer?"
"No, let us treat," Wendy motioned. "I insist."
I glanced at John, expecting him to mouth me some type of warning. None came. Wendy's charity appeared genuine.
"Only if the next round is on me," I stipulated.
"Fine."
She sat on the stool next to me. The pressure of her thigh surprised me. The scent of her perfume pierced me. She positioned herself for direct eye contact.
I wasn't sure what to expect.
During the course of the evening, it surfaced that I had a small collection of adult videos. I enjoyed watching such movies, as they were an excellent source of inspiration. One could learn a great deal about being "hot" from the professionals featured in them. The body language, the innuendoes, the positions-I treasured the wealth of knowledge bestowed in those tapes.
Besides, I masturbated during several of my favorites. If a man wasn't readily available, my finger and leering at those luscious male stars satisfied me.
Wendy, taking a personal interest in my safety, persevered about their giving me a ride home after Spencer's closed. She thought it unsafe for a woman to hop on a bus at four in the morning, and hailing a cab was ridiculous when they had a car.
Just as we pulled up to my door, John had deviously suggested, "Hey, let's go watch some porno."
I fully expected Wendy to nix that request. Instead, she glanced at me. "Would that be okay?"
I shrugged. "Sure. I'll serve a nightcap, too."
I foresaw nothing evolving while Wendy lingered. Surely, John wouldn't openly make a pass. His beer intake hadn't been that extraordinary.
I kept a case of beer in my refrigerator. After distributing a few cans, I led them to my hoard. Since I had so many in my library and enjoyed each on their own merits, I displayed no preference to any single tape. John wagged his tongue at the pictures on the boxes during the selection process.
Wendy and I stood back, amused with his facial expressions. At length, Wendy turned to me and stared. Her eyes glittered. I detected no resentment-but instead, something more penetrating.
Things happened quickly after I inserted the chosen cassette in the machine and pressed Play.
I supposed we all had a buzz from drinking. My inhibitions were generally lowered when I'd had a few beers. John and Wendy were susceptible to the unraveling scene on my television screen. The actress began sucking the actor's cock within the first five minutes. Watching her tongue dance over that mammoth organ got me wet. Ohhhhhh. I worshipped some of those well-hung stars. The thought of having something giant like that at my disposal shaped an awesome fantasy.
Wendy's lips fluttered to John's. Her demonstration of affection surprised me. She hadn't kissed him in front of me before. The intensity of that smacker affected me. I watched her throat muscles ripple.
God! I thought. She's put her tongue in his mouth. Wendy seemed a shy creature. At approximately four-thirty in the morning, she shed the image.
John's large, encompassing hands swept up and down her spine. Wendy suddenly ripped open her blouse and bared her tits. Her nipples were erect and ready for nibbling. Arching her back, she thrust them in his face. John hungrily descended upon them.
I was shocked-and aroused. Did they remember I was present?
John's tongue circled Wendy's areola, then lashed it. That thick stub received a twisting pathway of bubbles and spit to the accompaniment of Wendy's moan.
John peeled off Wendy's blouse. He skillfully removed her jeans. I zeroed in on her sumptuous ass and its rapturous gyrations. Those heart shaped cheeks had my pulse racing-especially when John manually pulled them apart to expose her juicy pink folds. Mmmmmmmmmmm. The moist flaps of her cunt were delicately pleated before John inserted one of his fingers.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," she gasped. Wendy whipped back her blonde mane and elevated her nipples. John's oral assault heightened her cries. He mouthed each of those upright pebbles until they glistened. His digit plunged into her wet pussy. "Oh, yeah. Ohhhhhhhhh."
Wendy clawed his shoulders and arms. When her arousal reached peak levels, she yanked up John's T-shirt. That brawny chest loomed in its masculine splendor. Her fingers traced his smooth, muscular development. Unlike the Italians with whom I had become acquainted, John was not the hairy beast. His enhanced pectorals more than compensated him that shortcoming.
My tits rose and fell at the sight of their naked flesh. My pussy involuntarily grew damp. In the back of my mind, I deciphered Wendy's dawdling glances as something more meaningful. Perhaps she would suck me. I pictured my slim thighs framing Wendy's gorgeous face, then felt my juices ooze. My jaw dropped in anticipation of that first engaging lick.
The X-Rated tapes, compounded by a dozen beers, narrowed the lines of discrimination. I had no problem shelving my mores if Wendy adopted a similar philosophy.
Attuned to my thoughts, Wendy purred, "Come here." She patted a space next to her.
John silently conveyed his passion. His eyes were wonderfully expressive. The corner of his mouth tugged, followed by the twitch of his Adam's apple. He stroked Wendy with new meaning. Thinly contained urgency was evidenced by his tremulous touch.
Wendy gazed longingly at me. Seconds after taking my place beside her, those wanting lips sought mine. Her lips were sweet, her tongue inspiring. She slipped into my mouth and probed me. She surrounded my tits with her hands. Her touch seared me. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. A woman dispensed incredible delicacy. I hungered for more of her electrical rotations. My swollen nipples emerged. She undid my blouse, then lifted my tits to freedom. She murmured at my taste and textures. Her anxious breath filtered over those stiff peaks. Hot saliva was applied to each.
John unsnapped my jeans, then hooked my skimpy panties with his thumbs. His sharp exhalations drifted over my ass. I shivered, then bucked when his tongue dipped into my crevice. Oh, God. Pinning back the pink lining of my cunt, he slurped the nectar. His pointed tip sank into my soaked pussy. He filled my snatch with his wriggling tongue.
My eyes rolled up into their sockets. A lush sob rose from the bottom of my throat.
The moaning from the porno movie heightened. Its soundtrack of sexual purring sustained our excitement.
Wendy tweaked my nipples until they throbbed. She administered more of her tingling saliva. She poured kisses over my tits and along my neck. I moaned while in her loving pucker. She lavished oral attention to my every nude inch.
God, I thought. I envisioned receiving a slap, clawed nails-not the luxuriant treatment she dispensed. Wendy's disposition defied my thinking. She had excused my weakness with John last week. She was absolutely incredible.
John cupped my quivering buttocks, then dragged them to his face. His gulping noises were somewhat muffled. He gleaned my sugared secretions without the need for air. His tongue, extending deep in my sodden hole, vigorously fucked me. I screamed for more. John readily obliged. He sucked my honey-laced flesh until I was at the verge of fainting.
Having satisfied her thirst for my nipples, Wendy switched her focus to John's cock. During my frenzied twitch, John rid himself of his remaining clothes. His dick stretched in its seven-inch glory. Wendy's fingers curled around the ample base, then swept slowly up its pulsating length. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. A whole lot of man throbbed in her fist.
"Do you have a rubber?" she whispered to me.
I handed her the package of strawberry flavored condoms. She slipped one over John's dick. The fruity scent gave me an appetite. If Wendy requested protection, then she obviously wanted to share John's cock with me.
Wendy took John's awesome thing in her mouth. I looked on as those exciting lips latched onto his engorged member, then gently rolled to its trunk. From behind, I felt John's involuntary shudder. Buried in her exhilarating warmth, he paused. His tongue froze inside my cunt while he briefly enjoyed Wendy's prickling wrap.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned after regaining his voice. Wendy took generously mouthfuls of him.
"Suck that cock."
She ate him in sections until his whole shaft disappeared. His tall-standing dick yawned in and out of her mouth. She fought down every bit until her sucking lips brushed his balls. Wendy, never choking, smoothly handled his size. Bubbly drool coated his cock. His substantial width precluded her snarl of hunger. His thickness muffled her whimper of joy. She displayed enthusiasm for adapting to his manly bulk.
Once again, John went about lubricating me with saliva. Binding my succulent cunt flesh, he stabbed into its center. His furious, unbroken wiggle hampered my breathing process. My lungs were almost depleted of air by the time he reached my clit. His large, strong thumbs held the thick flaps of my pussy; the rest of those rugged fingers delved into my quivering buttocks. Ravenously, he fed on my juices. He crammed his tongue into my snatch, prodded my innards, then darted for my thumping clit. His rough, steady lashes transported me. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. It felt incredible getting licked that thoroughly. John had a superb technique.
Wendy's lustrous hair tumbled over John's lap. Flipping it over her shoulder, I caught sight of that big cock entering her mouth. Those lips worked him into a lather, fiercely attached to the rubber layer. Her hand bordered his balls, then gathered them together in a loving caress. Wendy sucked him until spit trickled from her tight clasp. She rose to the top of his dick, gave it a sloppy kiss, then attended to his balls.
John jerked as she tongued them. "Oh, yeah," he muttered her instruction. "Lick me, baby. Wet them down."
His dick, standing tall and beating wildly, was under my intense observation. That monster fascinated me. I longed for its pounding force.
Stretching, I perched myself on an elbow and exhaled over that saliva-drenched bulb. Wendy had done a commendable job moistening him. The chance to sample her tangy flavor on him propelled me. With her lips displaced, I yearned for the opportunity to scrub that spice from his sucked cock.
Wendy continued to lap John's balls. Her pearls of spit stuck to the skin of his inner thighs and sack. She angled her eyes at me while washing him with hot drool. Her thoughts were unreadable. I suspected she was curious as to my approach.
I lowered my face to John's bulbous head, making a great ceremony of covering it with my lips. I drew that velvety tip into my mouth, circling the cumhole with my tongue. While effecting those delightful vibrations, I encountered traces of Wendy interspersed with strawberry. Mmmmmmmmm. Her sugar flavored my palate.
"Christ," John hoarsely uttered, once I secured myself to his plump helmet. His enormous hand spanned the back of my head. He pushed down, bidding me to swallow. "Come on, baby. Suck that dick."
I resisted his anchor. The revolutions of my tongue eventually caused the tension on my skull to lessen. I designed to take him whole, but not with the feverish consumption Wendy showed. My oral contribution would vary widely from hers.
My lips functioned as durably as my tongue. I mouthed John until he trembled. I controlled the amount-even when he elevated his hips and exerted pressure. He attempted to force more into my face, but I quickly checked that maneuver. I flogged the large, pulsing vein of his underside. He groaned at the vigorous flicking of his cockhead; my tip snapped ferociously at its jutting rim.
Wendy took note of my achievement. Sliding her tongue over those balls, she was acquainted with his shaking.
John continued to push himself into my mouth. The rubber bunched below my attached lips. After subjecting him to my oral torture for another few seconds, I engulfed a larger portion of him. We heard his gasp of relief throughout the room. He was clearly at my mercy.
"Jesus," he gulped, unable to concentrate on eating me. His tongue scarcely moved at my sopping entrance. The heat and strain within my cheeks sapped him.
I stared at Wendy, willing her to share those balls. She resisted my command. Smoothly, she lavished his taut flesh, outlining the round protruding shapes. Given her involvement, she silently took credit for John's frantic condition. His contortions were the product of her efforts.
Having sufficiently conveyed my oral power, I loosened my grip on John's cock and took him down my throat. All seven inches occupied me. I ground myself to his thick stem, imposing my temperature-giving clamp. The lower veins in his dick received numbing tension. His dick floated in fiery spit.
I sucked him hard, with unremitting force. I dared him to explode. His eruption, however, was for the rubber to collect. Neither Wendy, nor I, would swallow that jetting cream.
"Slow, baby," he whispered after a strangled groan. "I'm going to pop."
Wendy caught wind of that anxiety. Immediately, she relinquished his balls. "Let me have some."
After consigning him to the bottom of my throat, I released John. Noisily, I detached my lips. His groan was both felt and heard. Strings of saliva connected his mushroomed head with my displaced lips; Wendy hastily broke them as she plunged over it.
I swung my ass away from his dazed expression. John continued to fight the stupor I inflicted upon him. His features looked worn. Judging from his bewildered look, my style impressed him.
I settled between his legs, alongside Wendy. My hand swept up his smooth, muscled thigh until I tucked my thumb under his balls. I ran my tongue over them, spreading my satin heat. Wendy had been meticulous in coating him. I slurped up all indications of her, replacing her distinct essence with my own. I relished lapping those balls.
John was acutely aware of it being my tip that dampened him. He watched me bathe his skin. Several times, fervor pinched his face and he closed his eyes. The corner of his lips tugged and an extended gasp emitted.
Wendy, completing her turn, removed her moist lips from the swollen head. Having given his balls my saliva treatment, I was ready for that mouth-filling cock. I breathed heavily upon it before resuming my gut-wrenching suck.
"Oh, Jesus," John groaned, hurling himself against the pillows we'd strewn on the floor, the wind clearly knocked out of him. He seemed resigned to the fact I would drain him.
I snapped him up in three gobbles. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. I stroked that dick until his pulsations were profuse. I squashed him with my tongue, then tickled his large vein. I grafted my lips to him, siphoning his resistance.
Wendy took individual steps to reduce my oral fury. She slithered to my pussy, baring her tongue. I felt her silken breath in addition to a feathery caress just before she jammed me.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I sobbed, relishing it.
Her thumbs delicately rotated the slick lips of my cunt while she fed on my squish. She licked my pussy from end to end. I wiggled and gasped as those hot, sharp thrills bombarded me. That relentless tip jarred my senses. I shifted my hips with agitation, impatient for more. Wendy kept my supply steady. Ohhhhhhhhhh. Her heavenly slurps were elevating.
I went on sucking John's cock, fired with enthusiasm. My lips grabbed that wonderfully large thing, loving it from top to bottom. John grimaced through almost every second of my attack. He couldn't seem to digest the feast of sensations my tongue and mouth created. Those sexy dark eyes watched intently as I devoured his cock.
My vision blurred when Wendy's tongue traversed the depths of my cunt. Ohhhh. It was as though she wished to divert me from my hysteria and channel those bustling energies to her.
I puckered John's dick one final time, savoring its rich manliness before devoting my full concentration to Wendy. He gasped and shook as I plunged to the heavy stem. His hips swung at me, nailing me with that solid cock. Ohhhhhhh. I let him fuck my face with all he had. His chest convulsively rose and fell, linked with a repressed cry. I vaulted to the top, swirling round and round that bulbous head before noisily detaching my lips. A trail of bubbles flowed and popped along John's length as a sweet reminder of my tingling jaunt.
"Jesus," he muttered, his jaw slack and eyes liquid. "Christ."
Although I hadn't driven him to cum, I got the impression that he'd strenuously battled the urge.
Wendy discerned my pleasure-giving tongue was about to converge on her susceptible flesh and braced for its assault. She slid her face under my hips, prepared to wage battle. Her hands curved over my butt cheeks, her nails grazing their shape before digging into my flesh and pulling me down. When pussy and mouth met, I sucked in my breath sharply and settled my crotch. A delicious thrill tore through my body as Wendy buried herself in my squish and lashed out with her tongue. She probed my hot cunt, the seized my swollen clit with her lips and sucked hard.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I yelped, in receipt of those zestful whips. She was as good as I had predicted. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yeah. Eat me. Yeah. Suck my pussy."
She vibrated swiftly over my pulsing button and teased me, awakening every cell she throttled. Wendy lavished me with hot, anxious kisses while probing my blistering walls with her serpentine tongue. I ground my aching pussy to her mouth, desperate to wring its joy.
After being enslaved by those lusty slurps for several moments, I dived between her legs to induce a like fever. I lapped between those soaked lips and pierced her sodden flesh. My tip descended her liquid abyss in a starved growl.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh," Wendy wailed, hardly expecting such a mind-shattering introduction. Her nails sank into me in quivering rebuttal.
I lapped her hard and fast, never letting up. Her clit trembled beneath my scalding lashes. Ignoring her bewildered drone, I licked her to frenzied arousal.
Wendy recovered from my initial whisks and vigorously returned them. Attached to my soaked cunt, her lips quaked. That wiggling tongue of hers enabled me a teeth-clenching, eyeball rolling, hip-jerking thrill. I sincerely enjoyed her efforts. I rode her face, grinding my sodden lips to her mouth. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I thought I would faint from its gratifying exhilaration.
Clasping her trim thighs, I went down on her. Wendy's pussy was laced with sugar. Mmmmm. I availed myself of its honeyed pockets, scooping its richness with my hooked tip. She sobbed while I gulped her candied profusion. Wendy jerked and gasped as I stuck my tongue into her, then dragged it out with its sweet coating. I stabbed into her succulent opening, then delved into her quivering recess. Her abbreviated gasps informed me of my accurate stride.
Saliva was flicked once again along the crack of my ass. I shivered, realizing that John had recuperated. His determined lapping of my anus enlightened me as to my next ordeal. He dug into my rectum with his expert tip, refreshing my senses.
Wendy's punctured breathing hesitated long enough for her to issue a directive. "Fuck her in the ass, baby. Slide your big cock in there and give her what she needs."
I silenced her with my tongue. Her clit throbbed wildly beneath my exuberant tip. I surrounded it with my lips, then sucked fiercely until the air was plucked from her lungs.
John stationed himself behind me. I felt the jab of his blunt cockhead and knew he was about to sink into my butt. I willed my muscles to slacken, if only to hold that bone-crunching dick.
John's enlarged knob drilled into my lubricated anus. Despite relaxing myself, I couldn't repress my gasp of pleasure. I exhaled over Wendy's dripping cunt, my lips forming a trembling circle. My vision blurred.
"Oh, God," I moaned. That cock divided me while journeying to the corridor of my bowels. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, God."
"Yeah," Wendy ordered from below. "Go deep. Fill her ass with your cock."
John lumbered and pushed, spreading my ass cheeks apart. He proceeded with care. He studied my expression while gliding through my ass. I'm sure if I had displayed the least sign of anguish, he would have stopped. I gave him none. My vocal satisfaction echoed through my apartment.
"Oh, yeah," I wept as he burrowed into me. I shoved my ass at him, commanding that he pack it. When that stout trunk and those taut balls made contact with my buns, I ground myself to him. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh. That feels good."
I slammed myself back at him. He speared my dark squish, then slapped me with his balls. In and out he went, fucking my ass. Ohhhhhhhhhh. I writhed on top of Wendy, displaying my contentment.
I gave her fabulous head. Affixing my lips to her juicy cunt flesh, I sucked her clit. I flogged her love button until she buckled and panted. Wendy clung to me, cramming more of herself between my snapping lips. She smeared my cheeks and chin with her tangy ooze, shoving that snatch into my mouth. Her gyrating hips told me I was on the right track. I bore down on her face, muffling her cries with wet cunt. If my ass was getting pumped by John's big one, then I wanted to be sucked to orgasm.
"Oh, baby, you're so tight," John groaned, sawing through my butt. "Jesus Christ-I can barely stick my dick in there."
John stretched through my anus, jamming me with that rigid monster.
I reeled from his lunging. I couldn't pretend to ignore that thing fucking into me-its size dominated my conscious thought. It tunneled into my quivering hole and nearly split me in two. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. When there was the least hesitation on my part, John clasped my hips with both hands and pulled me tightly to him burying his cock in the process. He made certain he brought it home.
Getting my buns speared didn't slow my pace. I drank profoundly from Wendy's nectar-rich pussy. Mmmmmmmmm. Her juices invigorated me. My tongue tip drove her into a sputtering frenzy. She thrashed and gulped my tangy offering with equal voracity.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," she whimpered in approval.
My mouth locked securely to her cunt. Heavily lashing her clit, I administered a stroke that caused her eyeballs to revolve. Each succeeding dab seemed to bring her a step closer to convulsion.
Simultaneously, I managed to will my inner muscles to powerfully enclose John. His verbal pleasure rang when he slammed into my ass, only to have my rectum pinch that enormous cock. I shook roughly, exerting myself around that rock-hard shaft.
Wendy surrendered first. She came reluctantly, realizing my spirited tongue was inescapable. Gritting her teeth and hissing, she rolled her head from side to side and spasmed.
"Ohhhhhhhh," she sobbed, buckling from the contractions. "Ohhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh."
I held fast to her flailing figure, nearly uncoupling myself from John. Naturally, John dug into me and gave my ass its dose of cock. He made certain it went where it belonged. His seven inches were systematically pumped through my rear chute.
"Fuck me," I moaned as his dick reamed me. "Ohhhhhhh. Oh, yeah, fuck me. Fuck my ass.
Stuff your big cock inside it. Ohhhhhhhhhh."
His thrusts winded me. Even though I reflected pain from absorbing that giant thing, my ass persistently swung toward it. I welcomed the whack of his balls and the crunch of his broad root as it wedged my butthole.
"Yeah," he muttered, cramming his entire cock into my spread buns. "Oh, yeah, baby. Smother me. Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
Wendy revived from her orgasmic daze and began licking me in earnest. Her slurps got the better of me. The ache imposed by John's embedded monster was canceled by her curving tip. She stayed on my clit until my toes curled. Ecstasy soared through me. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.
"You're making her cum," John noted, pistoning his hips and feeding my rectum solid bone.
He spoke the truth. I shivered beneath Wendy's circuitous point. My mouth dropped open as that perception intensified.
"Do it," I murmured. "Make me cum. Ohhhh."
My cries spurred her. She sucked my pussy until I went numb. I seized her head and directed each splash of hot saliva. I rotated my hips, showing her where to apply the next tingling layer.
John neared orgasm himself. I could tell, from the rough manner in which his cock was fitting in my asshole, that he was at the brink of eruption.
He hoarse breathing also contributed to that conclusion.
I came. My eyes rolled high in their sockets and the scream I vented signaled the culmination of their efforts.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," I shrieked. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yeah."
"Ugggghhhhhhhh," he groaned, spasming into his rubber. "Uggghhhhhhhhh. Uggghhhhhhhhh."
Similar cries erupted from my television set. The actor and actress had reached orgasm.
God, what a night that was!
CHAPTER TEN
I kept fighting the urge to phone Richie. God damn him and his thick headedness! I thought. Going to Spencer's lost its sparkle. The fun revolved around his going with me. Going alone was not for me.
I began skipping a Friday here and there. The excitement of seeing Michael and John dulled. Having satisfied my sexual curiosity with each, there seemed nothing left to dream about. Months of teasing and flirting set the course for some incredible adventures, but invariably amounted to boredom. I had explored those uncharted seas. There was no prize left to claim-I'd had the real thing. Once you achieved the essence of your fantasies, there was no where else to go.
Watching television became my latest preoccupation. I quickly formed an addiction to late night talk shows. Having gotten cable installed, I endlessly channel-surfed. My attention span shortened. I constantly sought mindless entertainment, but only consumed it in small amounts.
My eye dwelled on the phone. I prayed it would ring. Naturally, it didn't.
One night, long after I'd tossed the remote control aside in disgust and went to bed, my doorbell rang. I couldn't, for the life of me, guess who would call at such a late hour. I slipped on a robe and answered it.
Richie slouched in the hall. "Would you mind if I spent the night on your floor?" he asked, breathing alcoholic fumes in my face. "I don't think I'm capable of driving."
I was elated to see him. "Of course. I could make some coffee. You sure look as though you need it."
He shook his head. "I'm about to pass out."
I got a spare set of pillows and a blanket from my closet and fixed him a spot on the sofa. "Had yourself one hell of a night, didn't you?"
He maintained his silence. I refrained from speaking with him. He needed to burn off the alcohol through sleep.
I helped him out of his clothes. Richie offered no protestation. He was much too sauced to pay notice to my assistance. I removed his shirt and pants, then socks. Clad in a pair of briefs, he reclined on my sofa with a groan. I covered him with a blanket, then sat in the chair across from him. Delighted to see him, I was content watching him sleep.
Sometime later, I felt a tap at my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open. I must have fallen asleep. Richie stood before me with a strange look on his face.
"Sorry," I drowsily whispered. "I dozed off. I guess I'll get to bed."
His hand remained firmly in place. He peered at me. After a moment, he knelt beside me. I realized my robe had opened and my tits were hanging out. My nipple was exposed. I could feel Richie's breath on it.
"What's wrong?" I asked, puzzled by his expression.
"We've been friends since we were kids," he said. "I became your surrogate brother-the one you never had."
"Sure." I lightly kissed his hand. "I've always been fond of you, Richie."
"I've listened to your confessions of other men. I tried never to judge you, until recently. I held my tongue, even when I thought what you were doing was wrong. I also enjoyed your tales-many of them were titillating."
I shrugged. "I always told you everything, Richie."
"I know." His hand rested on my thigh. "For years, I've been your friend. Tonight, I want to be your lover."
"What?"
"I want to be a man to you, Barb. I want to satisfy an urge that's burned through me for the last twenty years."
"You've ... lusted for me?"
"I always thought you were sexy. I never viewed you in any other light." His fingers inched into the confines of my robe. "Let me have you, at least once, Barb. Grant me that wish. Please."
I comprehended the demand in his probe. His blue eyes haunted me. God. His disclosure shocked me. I had never contemplated Richie as a sex partner-it seemed incestuous. He was a beloved friend, a confidante, a drinking buddy.
In studying him at that moment, however, I gazed at his sturdy frame, his rugged bearing. Richie was physically attractive. I began to see him as the women at Spencer's had-as a desirable male.
"Richie," I croaked, confused. "You're not saying this because you're drunk? Maybe you haven't slept it off long enough."
"I promise to be gentle," he muttered. "I want you, Barb. I want you desperately."
"Oh, God, Richie." He squeezed me. I became increasingly aroused by the fury of his need. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh."
He dragged me onto the floor. I made no attempt to elude him. He covered me with his man's body, pressing down on my mound. I felt his boner. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. He rubbed it against me, kindling a fire. I trembled violently. The barriers of my defense system collapsed. I could not deny a similar yearning to have him.
His mouth covered mine. I welcomed his tongue. Ohhhhhhhhh. He kissed me passionately, stoking the flames of my desire. I writhed beneath him, starved for more.
Richie untied the sash to my robe. I was completely naked to his eye. He grinned during his prolonged inspection. "You're everything I dreamed."
I closed my eyes. If I had been dreaming-if Richie's behavior had been completely manufactured by my imagination-then I had no wish to awake.
His trail of kisses from my mouth, over my breasts, and down my stomach, were not the product of fantasy. My body prickled with delight at his inventive swirls. He brought me to the pinnacle of awareness. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. The voltage that swept through my body belied any notion that what happened was fabricated by my subconscious.
Richie went down on me. He licked my pussy with uncivilized fervor. He opened me with his tongue and went as deeply as possible. He made me moan with his extravagant darts.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm," he growled into my cunt. "Mmmmmmmmmmm. Oh, Barb, you taste delicious."
I arched my back, capturing that eager tip. He slurped my flow of juices. Ohhhhhhhhhh. My hips swiveled as he found many of my sensitive regions. Cupping his head, I navigated his course. Richie took my instruction well. He dwelled on those places until I shuddered, then went onto the next stirring point.
By the time he concentrated on my clit, I was close to cumming. I couldn't delay my orgasm. He whipped me into a frenzy with his unstoppable tongue. My jaw became unhinged as his laps intensified. He assaulted my love button so sweetly, I had no recourse but to cum.
"Oh, God," I whimpered. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, Richie. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, yes."
Sweat spilled from my brow. I crested, emptying my lungs of stagnation. Ohhhhhhhhhh. My pussy came back to his mouth for more. He ate me without hesitation. His hunger for cunt was the fiercest I had ever known.
He fucked me with his tongue. I lay back, receiving that fiery sword. He drove it to the hilt. Wow! Gritting my teeth, I felt the tremors building once more. Evading them proved impossible. Richie wanted to drink my orgasm. No amount of bucking could detach his mouth.
"Yes!" I sobbed, oozing inside his clamped lips. "Ohhhhhhhh. Yes, Richie. Ohhhhhhhhh."
I shook violently, anxious for him to enter my pussy. He could tell how badly I wanted to be fucked.
"Do you have a rubber?" he whispered.
I hesitated. John had used the last one. I had exhausted my pack of strawberry condoms. That hardly doused the flames of my raging lust. "I don't want you to wear one," I said. "I want to feel all of you-without coverage."
"Are you sure?"
I emphatically nodded.
He yanked his briefs over his hips. His dick throbbed against my stomach. Whoa! Richie had nice equipment. I knew at that moment that foregoing protection was the right choice.
"Put it in me," I begged. "Hurry, Richie. I want that inside my pussy."
He aligned himself with my juicy crack, then went in. His eyes closed as he penetrated me. I felt his shudder of excitement as he sank into my hot, wanting cunt. "Oh, Barb," he gasped. "Oh, yeah."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, Richie." My lips formed a circle as he plowed into my quivering flesh. He filled me with that stiff cock. My thighs wrapped around him. I dug my heels into his butt. "Fuck me, Richie. Fuck me hard."
In and out he plunged, cramming that dick into my snatch. His balls loudly slapped my ass. I thrashed, loving every second of it. Ohhhhhhh. His thrusts completely satisfied me. I shoved myself back at him, provoking each lunge.
"Oh, my God," I moaned. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh, Richie, don't stop. Fuck me. Pound me with it. Yes. More. Give me more!"
The impact was sweet. I took the brunt of his spearing. My pussy lips rolled over that oncoming shaft, swallowing him to the trunk.
"I'm going to shoot," he warned.
"Do it," I panted. "Cream in me, Richie. I want to feel you squirt."
He pumped me more strongly than ever. I cherished the push and pull of his sizable organ. Olmhhhhhhhhhh. We synchronized our orgasms. He made me peak just as he prepared to flood me with his hot jism.
"Oh, Richie," I cried. "I'm cumming! Ohhhhhhh. I'm cumming!"
"Uggghhhhhhh," he howled. "Uggghhhhhh. Uggghhhhhhhh. Arrrggghhhhhhhh."
I shuddered beneath him, experiencing the most ferocious spasms I could remember. Between my legs, I discerned that hot collection of fluid gushing into my pussy. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I had forgotten how wonderful it was to have a man spew his excitement in my flesh.
After discharging his burden in my cunt, Richie withdrew. His spent jism trickled from me. I lay there, enjoying its hot tickle. He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes.
"Christ," he muttered, gasping for air. "Wow. That was even better than I thought it would be."
I cuddled beside him. I wanted to roam his body with my hands and provoke another session. Once wasn't enough. I wanted more of Richie. I licked the sweat off his chest. Mmmmmmmm. I loved his salty taste.
He gazed at me with affection. "All those teasing remarks weren't an exaggeration of your talents," he said. "You've backed your claims with real proof."
"That was only a sample. I can show you much more."
"More? You mean ... you'd give it to me again?" I nodded.
The color rushed into his face. He seemed ecstatic. His arms came around me, dragging me to his body. "I always wanted to tell you how much I wanted you-but I was afraid you'd laugh at me. Every time we went to Spencer's, I'd check you out from a distance."
"You did?"
"You still are the best thing there."
I placed my head on his chest. "I don't think I care to go back. Spencer's was fun, but I'd rather spend time with you. Not having you the past several weeks forced me to realize why I loved my Fridays. Spencer's wasn't the reason. It was you."
Richie steered me to his lips for a long and lasting kiss.
It was strange: after months of lusting for young studs, I ended up settling for one my age. Men in their forties seemed much better lovers.
