Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Jackson's Marvellous Melbourne: Part II - Hunting Prey
Disclaimer:

   This story is a blend of factual and fictional elements.  As such none
of the events described here happened as directly as described, being
either amalgamations or deconstructions of real events.  People and places
may have been changed, fictionalized or amalgamated to ensure better
readability and avoid any potential embarassment.

   Naturally this story being of a sexual nature is not intended (or
allowed) for persons under the age of 18, or whatever the legal age of
consent is in your country.  Its possession or reading my even be entirely
illegal in your country.

   If you have any comments, questions, flame or fan mail for me please
mail the address at the bottom of the story.  Enjoy.

   ******************************************************

   The fog in my head had not cleared by the time I reached home.  Like
some skipping DVD my mind kept repeating odd flashes of tonight's tryst out
of order: the sight of Lucy taking my straining manhood into the wet
confines of her mouth; our first passionate kisses; her looks of pure
devilishness as she took me into her mouth.  Every thought, somewhat
painfully, raised my mast just a little bit higher.  I would look away and
absorb, briefly, the details of my surroundings and how perfect everything
looked.  Perfect in all its imperfections.  Perfect in its partially
illuminated glory.

   I showered and I was still ahaze, unable to close my eyes without
imagining my first shared sexual experience.  My mind raced with joy at
both the physical pleasure I had enjoyed and the reflection of Lucy's lust.

   My mind was still a mess in the morning as I dressed in my best
going-out gear (a striped black shirt, partially faded jeans and my best
casual shoes).  I was at war with myself.  Part of me sensed that the whole
wingman scenario was a ruse and wanted to fuck Lucy senseless.  At the very
least, see and feel those pert little titties that teased the whole office
from under her business shirts and to tear off her black work pants to
discover what really covered her snatch.  Another part of me anticipated
playing the picking up game and feared failure with strange women.  The
last faction feared the worst, that Lucy would come to her senses and stop
wanting to lay, or get others to lay, a small-dick man.

   I drowned these thoughts by absent-mindedly throwing myself into my work
that Friday.  So much of what I did had to be redone but I didn't care;
productivity wasn't the issue here, busyness was.

   Everyone at our Friday team lunch was discussing their bonus slips.  It
was only then that I realized we were promised a nice little bonus and a
corporate junket on the coast.  After lunch I collected the three envelopes
in my mailbox.  I had distracted myself so completely that morning that I
had missed my morning perve of Lucy filling mailboxes and the growing
chatter about money.

   The first letter contained arrangements and directions for the company
holiday, so I left it on the table to be consumed at a later time.  I
didn't much care for holidays, I wanted money.  Now.  Opening the second
letter my heart skipped a beat: a fake cheque to the tune of $6000 and a
letter stating that the amount on the cheque would be paid a week or so
before Christmas.  One can't sneeze at $6000.

   Blood rushed to my head when I discovered the contents of the third
envelope: two condom packets and a note which read, "You'll need these
tonight big fella.  Meet me at The Orient and Occident at 6.30pm tonight to
begin our quest." Blood redirected itself from my head back to the rest of
my body when I had stashed the contents into a drawer.

   So she was serious about the whole pick-up mission after all.  I felt
overjoyed, disappointed and anxious all at once.

   The minutes inched by as I half-heartedly concentrated on work.  Each
minute felt like distant highway markers that took forever to pass you
before being replaced by another off in the distance.  I cut my losses at
about 3pm and headed off to The Well.  Juri was also ready ensconced there,
so I grabbed a few drinks and parked my butt.  Unfortunately he wanted to
regale me with his latest driving stories and updates on modifications for
his car.  At other times I would've engaged his fantasies of automotive
nirvana but I wanted numbness not mental stimulation, so I drank my beer
and then another and focussed on the cricket playing on the big screen.

   Given some of the more random details I've been able to recall it seems
rather odd that I can't recall who Australia were playing in that test
match.  Nothing really stood out for mind: Australia were on top and, as
pathetic as the opposition seemed in comparison, I urged them on.  Ahh
that's better, more beer and the numbing effects of cheering on a losing
team.

   Before I knew it six o'clock had swung around and news had replaced
sport on the big screen.  Juri bid me adieu, albeit a little embittered
that I found staring at thirteen men in white rather more entertaining than
him.  I sauntered off to The Orient and Occident, grabbed another nip of
alcohol and plonked myself at table with a good view of the assortment of
TVs.  The Orient and Occident had an olde-worlde air with a smattering of
booths, tables and ample bar space.  It was a little underpopulated for
six-ish on a Friday.  When I left The Well there was only standing space
and to be heard you had to be pressed mouth-to-ear; here, while there were
no tumbleweeds passing me by, I didn't have to wait for a table to become
free and, had I wanted to, I could've easily heard my thoughts above the
clinking of glasses and the background murmur of chatter.

   Absorbed in trying to interpret the silent TV news, I jumped out of my
skin when I received a little push in the back.

   "My, you've changed your look today!" I greeted my assailant as she sat
down.

   "Whatever happened to hello?"

   "It's just that I've never seen you wear anything other than black pants
and a business shirt."

   "Seems like somebody's been taking notice of me," she replied, raising
her eyebrows.  "Wanted to seem more like a successful business women. 
Keeping successful company only brings more success, I reckon."

   She looked successfully sexy in her black knee-length skirt and blue
top, which wasn't too tight but hugged her around her breastage, serving to
highlight their delightful perkiness.  This was definitely the most
"classically" sexy I'd seen her but somehow it served to diffused the hope
I'd desired of banging her.  All my fantasies involving Lucy had been built
around ripping the buttons off her business shirt and peeling off her black
pants to discover what lay beneath.  Her choice of a different outfit had
just quashed that.

   We ordered bar food, she insisted that I needed its alcohol absorbtion
properties because our quest would involve some drinking and that I would
definitely need to get it up at the end of the night.

   "Actually, rather perversely, I think alcohol helped my stamina last
night," I blurted out to fill in a silence that had crept into our
discussion on revisions to her plan of attack.

   "That may be down to my lack of practice," she laughed.

   "Eh?  You seemed pretty darn good to me ..."

   "It's been ages since I've been able to go down on Dan.  Actually, I
think he's been cheating on me.  We used to fuck like animals on heat.  All
different places, all different positions, all night long.  Now he just
services me when I get too horny.  He does me hard and fast, gets off and
thinks he's done his job," she replied, scrunching her face up a little.

   "Oh." She caught me off guard again.  It's funny but in her time at our
company (admittedly about only about a month) I'd never seen her in
anything bar pants and a business shirt (before tonight, that is) but she
was incredibly frank about sex.  Indeed speak to her normally and you'd
never suspect that she'd use phrases like "fuck like animals on heat."

   "Actually, I had it in my mind for ages that we'd end up in the sack but
I wasn't sure whether you were into me."

   "Are you kidding?" is what I wanted to say but I just looked at her as I
piled some more food into my mouth.  God knows I wanted nothing more than
for her to educate me further in the world of carnal delights.  To see and
feel her pert breasts.  To plunge my hard one into her tight, dripping
pussy.  But I was mute and just ate.  Maybe I feared this was a joke or
some elaborate ruse to catch me out.

   "So I'm going to get you some and then, maybe, get me some too tonight,"
she finally said, smiling wanly, after I'd had a few more bitefuls.  We
finished up dinner and headed out to hit some of Melbourne's quietier, more
loungey establishments.

   At every joint, we'd grab a drink from the bar, find a spot to stand or
sit and scope out any potential targets.  I'd pick one, then we'd wait
patiently for one of their party to head to the bar upon which Lucy would
quickly finish off her drink and queue for the bar behind them, striking up
a conversation in the process, usually about drink recommendations or
praising/dissing our current establishment, or some such.  When they were
in the process of ordering I'd saunter off to the men's room for about five
minutes; this was, naturally, a rather trying experience.  I'd return to
find our seats or space taken and, lo and behold, Lucy talking to her new
friends.  I'd then join in, introduce myself and try to talk to my target.
Sometimes she'd be too engrossed in other conversation, other times I'd get
to her and we'd engage in the normal information dump: how's it going;
what's your name, mine's ...; so what do you do for a living; etc.

   Sometimes our conversation would get further but there never seemed to
be any real chemistry and I couldn't create any.  So it was, with some
disappointment, that we retired to an all-night cafe sometime after
midnight.

   "You picked some nice looking asian honeys tonight," Lucy said licking
some coffee froth from her upper lip.

   "Why, thanks."

   "So what happened to the dyed-hair one at Underground?"

   "I don't know, I don't think she was that in to me," I stammered.

   "Oh don't give me that!  You two were laughing quite a bit, she even
gave you a playful push or two too."

   "Maybe she did." Pause.  "How on earth did you see those two little
shoves?  Weren't you engrossed in conversation?"

   "Multi-tasking, babe.  Multi-tasking."

   "Anyway, she said she'd just broken up with her boyfriend..."

   "What the hell?  That's perfect then!" she interjected.

   "Well, I didn't want a rebound shag."

   "Babe, a shag's a shag.  And frankly some of the best sex I've had has
been on the rebound."

   "The last thing I want is a shag just because she's, you know, dropped
her standards..."

   "How are you to know whether she's dropped her standards or whether she
really digs you?" Pause.  "I think she really digged you.  Honest."

   "Well, I don't think I would've measured up anyway..."

   "Argh!  Stop saying that shit.  You gotta have more confidence in
yourself.  How hard is it to get an erection, then put cock into pussy? 
Slow, fast, slow, fast, kiss, suck on nipple ...  it's not terribly
difficult you know.  You just got to lose yourself in the moment..."

   Her voice was more than audible to adjoining tables, so I interjected,
"but there's more to it than just that, especially when you have to
compensate for ..." I paused, then whispered, "a lack of length."

   "Yeah sure, of course there is," her voice adjusting to a slightly more
suitable level.  "But length isn't the be all and end all of sex.  Dan's
got an eight-inch-plus cock," she said, approximating eight inches with her
index fingers, "but it does nothing for me now because he just wants to get
off in world-record time."

   I could feel, if not see, other tables looking at us.  "Please Luce, I
think everybody else can hear our conversation," I said in a voice above a
whisper.  "And anyway I think you've proved my point..."

   "No you haven't because the point is you need some experience!  You'll
learn more techniques with more experience.  So what if you have a few dud
roots along the way?  It's part of learning experience.  And my God
what's-her-name seemed like she would've been some learning experience!"

   Her voice had risen again so I shot her a look and then glanced around
at some of the other tables, who were clearly trying to ignore our
conversation now.

   "Sorry babe.  I don't mean to embarass you but I think it's the truth."
She then grabbed her purse and plonked down a tenner on the table.  "C'mon,
let's end this night on a high.  I'm going to show you one of Melbourne's
greatest sights." Lucy grabbed my hand and led me out of the cafe.

   "But what about our half drunken coffees?"

   "Don't worry about that.  This sight will be as a good as those coffees
were bad," she said in a level of voice meant to be heard by the staff as
we headed for the exit.

   She led us back to our office building but instead of heading to our
floor, she pressed the button for the top floor.

   "How on earth did you get access to the top floor?"

   "Don't know, I suspect I've always had it.  You know what's up there,
right?"

   "Yeah, Old Man Donovan's office and a boardroom, I believe."

   "Spot on.  Donovan interviewed me in his office up there."

   "Strange..." Ding.  And the doors slid open.  This seemed like any other
floor: four lift doors, an emergency exit and toilets.  We went to the
right, Lucy swiped in and we were in a tee-shaped corridor with swipe doors
at each point of the tee.  We headed for the rightmost.  Once through we
were in a good sized reception area with a round table strewn with
magazines flanked by two two-seat sofas.  There was a large smoked glass
pane running almost the entire right flank of the reception area.  She
beckoned me into this room.

   I stood in the doorway gobsmacked.  Taller than our surrounding
buildings, the boardroom offered a brilliant view of Melbourne, albeit
mainly of buildings.  We could see the Rialto and, behind it, glimpses of
the Yarra.  Poking out behind another building was Docklands Stadium (now
Telstra Dome).  Just partially visible was the West Gate Bridge.  Lucy
beckoned for me to join her by the window, so I picked up my jaw and stood
beside her.  There were a number of much smaller buildings around us and I
gazed at their partially lit rooftops.  I now looked for lit windows in
other high-rise buildings, to see what was going on inside.  Nothing much.
Oh!  One person working, rather forlornly I imagined, at his desk.  Oh! 
Two cleaners working a floor in another building.  It all seemed to be
rather quiet this Friday night in Melbourne.

   "Come on, you gotta check out Donovan's office."

   Standing at the door to his office Lucy whipped out her bunch of keys
and, rather theatrically, held one up.  "I used to think this key only
locked the mailroom, but surprisingly it's a superkey for our company. 
Opens doors to all the offices and meeting rooms!" She stuck the key in,
shooting me a sly stare, then partially stuck her tongue out the side of
her mouth in mock effort as she turned the key and pushed the door open. 
This girl sure knew how to vamp it up.

   "Oooh, wow," I gawped.

   "Admire the view.  I gotta go to the little girls' room."

   I stepped up to the window pane and glimpsed parts of the familar
Flinders Street Station.  Bored with that I scanned the rooftops and
buildings around us for signs of activity.  Alas, not much more than from
boardroom: just a few cleaners and a few sad sacks in their offices.

   "So whaddya think?"

   "Impressive.  I still like the view from the boardroom better," I said.
"It's more expansive."

   "There's one thing you'll only see in here though."

   "What's that?" I enquired, scanning the vista for any detail I might
have missed.

   "Well for that, you'll have to repay me for last night," she whispered
straight into my right ear.  I could feel her body heat radiating close to
me as her face grazed my shoulder.  In own fell swoop she brought our
bodies together in a hug and began kissing and licking my ear and neck. 
All I could hear was the throbbing of my head, partially from the alcohol
my body was still absorbing but also from my increasing heart rate.

   "How am I to do that?" I asked, turning slightly to glance at her before
catching our faint relection in the window.

   "A repayment in kind would suffice," she whispered as she lowered one
hand to my crotch and, through my jeans, began to pay my little man some
attention.  Kissing my neck some more so fingered my steadily rising mast
from base to tip over and over.  Turning to her, she grabbed my hands and
led me to the edge of the boss' desk.

   "What about some light?  I'd like to see where I'm going ..." This I
said in the hope that'd she break from me, turn the light on and dampen the
mood somewhat.

   "Ok." Letting go of one hand she sat herself on the right of the desk.
The light gradually increased.  In the rising mood lighting I could see her
fiddling with something under the table.  "There's a PA call button down
here and a light fader." Seeing my raised eyebrow she added, "I once took
Dan up here to fuck and found this by accident." Smirking, she pulled us
together again.

   As it was, one of her legs was between my legs, so she hooked my right
leg with both of hers.  I think from this moment I was committed to
repaying my "debt," although the logistics of eating pussy was a mystery to
me.  Indeed I was sure I'd find the taste of pussy abhorrent.  Never been
much of a cat fan myself (boom tish).  Nonetheless I grabbed her face and
kissed her deeply and passionately.

   Breaking our oral entanglement I ran my hands up and down her sides,
stopping each time to cup her breasts.  Staring lustfully at her I couldn't
believe that I stood at the precipuce of enacting such a seemingly wild
fantasy.  And all at her behest.  Even at this wonderous moment, I couldn't
help but wonder whether I was being used as a revenge fuck.

   Lucy banished these thoughts to the deepest recesses of my mind by
slowly pulling her top off.  First the white of her stomach and navel, then
her chest and then her tight, lacy white bra.  Gently, at first, I began
massaging her globes through her bra.  Her mammaries were so soft and
malleable, like some magic dough with hard nubs at the end.

   "Wait.  I think you want the full the experience," she said unclasping
her bra.  Removing them I finally saw what I had long speculated about. 
They were small but ever so alluringly pert.  The areolae seemed to pinch
out her mammories, giving them that pertness, and weren't huge but rather
beautifully proportioned.  They fit beautifully into my smallish hand and
she gave me a small sigh of approval as I massaged them, giving her nipples
a tweak or two.

   I stooped a little and began to suck and lick her right nipple and
breast like some demented, over-sized baby.  Mmm, she moaned in approval.
My mouth proceeded across her cleavage in a procession of feather-kisses
and licks before fastening on her left breast; this illicited another moan
or two.  All the while my free hand ranged her sides and the small of her
back.

   "Mmm.  Now do the same to my pussy.  Mmm," Lucy half-commanded as she
bucked a little and began rubbing my member.  I raised my index finger to
her lips to silence her but she drew it in her mouth and began licking and
sucking it like a lollipop.  Or like my lollipop, even.

   She lent back a little as my mouth progressed langerously down her
white-skinned stomach to her navel.  When I reached her skirt I stopped and
stood upright.  "You've got to stop fingering me ...  I might just
explode," I pleaded.  She ignored by protestation and gave me a wicked
little smile instead.  I stopped her by grabbing her fingering hand.  I
stepped out from between her legs and spread them as far apart as her skirt
would allow.  My hands then moved from her knees up her inner thigh,
crawling under her skirt, feeling her skin.  She stood up abruptly, pushing
me backwards slighty then drew us together again by the base of my back. 
We kissed briefly before she started unzipping her skirt.  With a little
wriggle and a push the skirt dropped to the floor.  It looked like a puddle
at her feet, but in one fluid motion she stepped aside, kicked the skirt
clear and reassumed her old position.  Raising my eyes from her heels she
stood dressed before me clad only in her frilly white g-string.

   I'd seen all her curves before, I was well used to her slightly chubby
face, tied back hair, pert breasts, narrowing waist and more fullsome hips,
but I'd never seen them like this.  Not this sparingly clad.  Well in my
mind it had been, but all the details had been conjecture then.  I'd now
felt her skin, suckled on her breast, flicked her nipples and now she was
mere inches away wanting me (no, beckoning me) to invade the most private
part of her physicality.  Needless to say, I froze in shock as I attempted
to comprehend this moment.

   I'm not sure whether my mouth was agape but she broke me out of my
reverie by pulling me by the shirt as she sat herself on the table and
kissed me again.  "Now ..." kiss " get that tongue ..." kiss "into action
..." kiss "on my other lips." For one innocent looking girl she sure did
know how to talk dirty.  Still fearing that I'd gag on the taste of pussy I
turned my attention to her breasts: fondling one, sucking on the other. 
They looked like perfect little chocolate drops with upturned tips.  White
chocolate drops.  With pink tips.  I ran my tongue around as if stuck going
around a roundabout.  I sucked them as if trying to get to the dregs
through a straw.  She cooed a little.  I hopped off the roundabout and
headed toward the navel, via clevage valley, before arriving at the string
of the g-string.  Below it was a frilly, partially see-through vee of
material.  Under that was white skin with little tufts of brown hair poking
through and darkness below.  I looked up, hopefully, looking for guidance
and advice; she merely raised her eyebrows.  Being so close to her sex I
could smell her musk.  With my right index finger I drew a line from the
base of the triangle down through the partially poking through patch of
hairs to the bumps and ridges of her love box, stopping when I could feel
the dampness.  I guess I ran over her clit on the way through for she
involuntarily raised her pelvis towards me.  Looking up again she brought
her tongue to her upper lip.  Drawing out the inevitable I kissed the
inside of her left knee, slowing moving up her thigh while pushing and
massaging her other thigh.

   Finally my mouth was near the nexus of white material, which served to
partially hide my destination.  Before pulling down her last vestige of
modesty, I licked where I supposed her pussy lips hid.  The taste was not
quite like anything I'd ever experienced before: a little sweet and a
little salty.  It was the musk more than anything else that left me wanting
more though.  She raised her hips off the table as I pulled and tugged and
pulled some more to finally shed her last piece of clothing.  Unless, of
course, you count shoes as clothing.  Kneeling down (in hindsight I would
tell her it felt like worshipping at a temple) I got my first close up
inspection of a real-life, non-celluoid vagina.  Unlike the porn variety
pussy I was used to seeing there was hair here: a little trapezoid of thin,
short, curly light brown hair, acting like a sign board advertizing the
wares below, with a sprinkling of even lighter, curlier hairs on her outer
lips.  Her skin around her slit was a wrinkly brown.  A small hillock
descending into a soft valley surrounded her slit, marked by lightly
protruding frizzly lips, more marked at the top than the bottom.  It was
all capped off by a little hood, like a little anorak hood, just poking out
from her light pubic hairs.

   "I appreciate this your first real pussy but this cat needs a lickin'!"
God, if I wasn't so nervous and daunted I'd have boned her right there and
then, but instead I gave said cat a tentative lick from bottom to top.  She
was definitely wet and the taste was stronger than before: sweeter, saltier
and still quite unfathomably different.  Uncertain, I feathered some wet
smoochy kisses on her outer mound, feeling the wrinkly skin under my
tongue, as well as those wispy, curly hairs nearer her valley.  I smooched
one side and explored the other with my index finger.  Slowly my mouth
worked its way back to ground zero and licked a little more ravenously, up
and down, and side to side.  She bucked a little and I looked up to see an
approving smile.  I became a little more adventurous and widened her valley
with my hands until I could a little bit of pink then probed my fumbling
tongue in.  The texture was smoother and wetter, the taste turned up a
notch and the smell truly intoxicating.  I was now fully into this pussy
eating thing: deeper probes, almost like french-kissing her pussy; shallow
licks of her valley and lips; playing with her outer mound and caressing
her outer thighs.  For her part, Lucy seemed to be enjoying my virginal
attempt at cunnilingus: a low moan, a coo, the odd thrust of hip; one hand,
two hands, three hands running through my hair.  Giving her pussy a quick
lick, I looked up, pausing for breath.  Luce bit her lower lip, compressing
the assurance of a million soothing words, and the scripts of a million
pornos (admittedly not a lengthly tome by any stretch of the imagination),
into one lust-filled look.  To wit, I replied by sucking on her clitoral
hood.  Unwittingly I'd saved the best for last, kinda like dessert.  She
bucked like she was on a rodeo mount, pushed my face against her nether
region so that even if I had wanted to stop, I couldn't.  She swore like
she'd been living in North Queensland all her life.  Getting into the
moment, I channelled my inner porn star and stuck my finger inside her
crevasse.  It was smooth, like I had tasted, and warm and rippling
slightly. My index finger was buried to the hilt and juices ran down my
palm and my arm.  Her cavern seemed to go on for ever.  At least my finger
couldn't reach her backboard, so I turned it around ninety degrees, crooked
it and felt her pussy walls as I slowly fingered her.  I did this to savour
her inner texture but happily drew a few oh-my-Gods from her.  I turned my
finger through another ninety degrees to feel the bottom of her pussy and
gained a gutteral moan.  Lastly, I turned my finger back 180 degrees and
felt the ceiling, as I reached as far as I could she let out a "sweet
Jesus, dear fuck!" With my finger in her hole, I looked up and saw her
cute, mousy features contorted in a feeling of pleasure only a female could
adaquately describe.

   "I want you to fuck me now," she uttered as her head tilted from staring
at the ceiling to me.

   "But you haven't..."

   "I wanted your hard cock in me now."

   "But I haven't got any ...  condoms," I protested.

   "Shssh, Jacky," she said, putting her finger to my lips.  "There are
some in my bag."

   "But I won't be to fit in ..."

   She patted her finger against my lips and said, "Shshh.  I need your
cock.  Now."

   I stood and rummaged through her bag as she skilfully unbuttoned my
shirt.  She'd begun to run her hands over my hairless chest before I
questioned her about the exact location of said condoms.

   "Jesus, do I have to do everything myself?" she replied with mock
annoyance, grabbing her handbag off me.  "See, here, in the inner zip."
Yep, sure, and there it was.  She pushed me back, dropped to a crouching
tiger position and managed to unbuckle my belt, unbutton my jeans and free
my dragon quicker than I could've when totally in control of my faculties.
My little man pointed straight at her cute little face.  "Hi, remember me
from last night?" she asked, smiling, before licking the base of my
semi-erect shaft from circumcision base to tip.  He saltued in response.

   "I see he does," she said, cocking her eyebrows and looking up at his
owner, before she began performing oral corkscrews.  Her hair flew about as
she slid her mouth up and down my pole, turning her head from side to side.
Somehow she was turning some poorly scripted porn into reality.  Before I
could finish this thought, she stopped.

   "I think he's ready for his mission now," Lucy said sternly, looking at
my glistening rod in the half-light, while fumbling for the condom packet.
She liberated it and rolled it down said flagpole.  If not for the wonders
of alcohol, I would've sprayed my jism right then.

   She reparked herself on the edge of our boss' table, reclined slightly,
resting on her elbows and spreading her legs outwards and upwards.  Staring
straight into my eyes, once they'd wandered back up from her snatch, she
commanded, "Now fuck me."

   I grabbed my latex covered tool and pointed it straight at the mouth of
her love hole.  My rubbered head stood pressing at her lips, which guarded
the gate to my future as a non-virgin.  I could feel Lucy's heat at the
point where out bodies touched.

   "I can't believe I'm..." I uttered to her breasts before she suddenly
grabbed my buttcheeks and pushed me in.  Her flesh now enveloped a small
part of me; it was warm and wet and tight.  It pulsed and twitched ever so
slightly.

   "Oh.  My God," I breathed as I stared at our enmashed nether regions. 
My cock had disappeared and my black scrub had run roughshod over her light
brown bush.

   "Don't just stand there gawking.  Fuck me."

   I withdrew partially, still staring at our sex, then pushed back in,
gently.  Her body moved slighty further up the desk at my prod.

   "Mmm," she growled.  I looked at my lover's face for the first time
since our physical union; it spoke of lust begging to be fulfilled and a
quiet impatience.  "More, please, sir."

   I withdrew again before pushing back in.  Again her body slithered a few
more centimetres up the desk; I was canted a wierd angle.  I grabbed the
top of her thighs and pulled back towards the desk's edge; holding on I
began to fuck her slowly.  It felt devine.  She felt devine.  Wacking off
was almost always fun but utterly predictable and dry until those last wet
moments; five minute thunder to sate my animal urges.  Last night's blowjob
was the Premier League compared to that; unpredictable, hot, wet and
totally out of my control.  This, I later surmised, was the Champions
League; hot, wet and probably what the gods had in mind when they devised
human sex.

   Everytime I looked into her eyes she gave me a coo and moan of both lust
and encouragement.  Everytime I gazed at the sight of her little chocolate
drop breasts rising and falling as I pushed and parried her pussy I was
filled with a little bit more lust and slowly my tempo rose to drive her
titty oscilations higher.  I grew bolder, withdrawing my cock all the way
so that her pussy lips had the merest of grips on my head before thrusting
back in as far I could, as she uttered more lust-laden carnal urgings. 
"Harder." "Faster." "Mmm fuck me good." "Oh God, you feel so good in me."
Sometimes I'd withdraw too far and end up running my cock up her slit and
against her clit.  There'd then be lull in our action as I'd fumbled with
my little man; getting him to point almost straight ahead for the damp,
tropical rainforest of her pussy, instead of pointing to the heavens. 
Everytime this happened she'd beseech of me to get him back inside.

   Stooping to add some tongue and saliva interaction to our cock and pussy
action, her moans grew louder and more intense.  "Oh God, that's the spot."

   As we fucked and kissed and slobbered and moaned and panted, I felt the
pressure rising inside of me.  The inevitable was soon about to happen.

   "Oh God I think I'm going to cum," I blurted as I unlocked our lips and
slowed the pace back a crawl.  Not only could I feel the pressure inside of
me but her lovebox seemed wetter, more twitchy and pulsating than the last
I took stock.

   "I want your cum inside me.  Cum hard.  Give it all to me," she implored
into my face, catching my outstroke with another grab and shove of my
buttocks.

   I resumed the cock and pussy duel at a quicker tempo and re-established
our oral connection.  God, she knew how to turn all my buttons and smash
all my senses.  I quickened and slowed erractically as the pressure got to
near its zenith and then it came.  I came.  Our mouths disengaged and I let
out a series of "ohhhs" and "uhhhs" and "urrghs" or stuff to that effect. I
fell on top of her, pressing chest to chest, as my cock let go of stream
after stream of cum.  Finally my cock was truly wet, as opposed to feeling
wet, and my energy disappeared off into the ether.

   As mental consciousness resumed after my mental haywire, I craned my
neck and looked at Lucy.o "I can't believe we just did that.  That was
incredible," I breathed into her face.  We engaged in a quick oral joust
before she lay her head on the table.

   "You felt so good inside me." I could feel her squishy mammaries and
hard nipples press into my chest as she spoke.  "Your cock is so ramrod
straight it just feels incredible." Somehow I managed to blush an even
deeper shade of pink.  "And at certain angles it just hits the spot."

   I revelled in our post-coital bliss, kissing her shoulder, with my ego
suitably massaged.

   "Mmm," she cooed, pushing me off her.  "I don't want to ruin this moment
for you but I think you better get your cock out of me before we undo the
good work of Mr.  Condom."

   I withdrew, hands still clinging to her thighs, my little man pointing
out straight and swamped by the, now, oversized condom.  It was cum-filled,
white and glistening with pussy juice.  I surveyed my deflowerer: she was
lying on our boss' desk, panting, legs held up and sweating.  This wasn't
quite like what I had hoped for in my fantasies, but it was certainly
better.

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   Please feel free to mail me a small_schlong2005 at yahoo.co