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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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VSR Tape (MF, intr, voy)
By Green Hell, Inc.
***
Written in December-March, 1990-91 - Completed in December, 1992
("Long time, long time coming...")
Copyright (C) 1990 by Green Hell, Inc.
(Unlimited distribution permitted as long as file goes unchanged)
***
The black plastic case was warm to Greg's touch. The envelope it
had been sent in had insulated it in the mailbox during the heat
of the day. Greg's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out why his
girlfriend had mailed him a videotape rather then sending a
letter. Musing, he wandered over to the VCR and TV set-up in one
corner of the small apartment.
During the summer Greg was staying in a small rural town in
Virginia, working as a data entry manager for the local outlet of
a small chain of clothing stores. It was part of the Co-Op
education plan at his college in North Carolina. Unfortunately, it
had meant leaving Rhoda, his girlfriend, while she took summer
classes at the college to finish up her Film major.
Greg sat on the lumpy and stained couch, sighing as he relaxed the
muscles in his feet by propping them up on the small, worn coffee
table that was between him and the TV. Having to walk back and
forth between work and his apartment was an annoyance and somewhat
tiring.
It was also annoying that he hadn't seen Rhoda in over six weeks.
They had had a wonderful goodbye fuck which had left him sated.
For about a week. By the end of the first month he had become
rampantly horny. He was too used to regular sex with Rhoda and
found the adjustment hard to make.
"You promise?" Rhoda had asked him, laid out on top of his black
body, her usually pale, oval shaped face flushed pink from a
recent climax. Her light brown hair was too short to drape across
Greg's face as she looked into his dark brown eyes.
"Honey, I already promised. I'll promise again, ok?"
"You looked guilty."
"What?! Come off it, I did not."
"If I even think you are fooling around over there, it'll be
over," Rhoda said seriously, eyebrows tucked down slightly. Her
thin lips disappeared whenever she did this.
Greg sighed. Rhoda had a jealousy complex. "I can go without sex
for three months and not rape someone. Jeez..."
Rhoda pouted. "So how come you have to have it every day with me,
huh?"
Greg smirked. "Because I can. *You* were the one who was getting
all grabby, anyways."
"Was not."
"Were too."
"Fuck you."
"Please do!" Greg replied gleefully. He giggled as Rhoda slapped
his smooth, ebony chest and lifted herself up into a straddling
position.
"Just for that, you have to stay on the bottom again," she said,
rotating her hips to encourage her boyfriend's semi-soft cock back
to life. Greg didn't protest.
Greg adjusted his jeans to accommodate the shifting bulge in his
crotch. It was likely going to be yet another night of stroke
power and an old wash cloth. But at least he had gotten something
from Rhoda. Greg leaned forward with an "umph" and managed to
stick the tape into the VCR. The blank face of it slid into the
darkened recess of the machine with an accompanying clatter.
The apartment had turned out not to have any phone hook-ups
available, and Greg couldn't afford to pay for installation as
well as the phone for only three months. When he had written his
letter to Rhoda a little over a week ago, he had been particularly
bothered that evening. The letter had changed from a general
information, I-Miss-You sort of writing to a Wait-Till-I-Get-Back-
And-Boink-The-Hell-Out-Of-You type. He had even put in a few of
his fantasies that he had previously not mentioned to Rhoda.
Now he mused that perhaps his somewhat serious and intellectual
mate had sent him a porno movie rather than write a reply. He
almost half-hoped that she had, since it would provide some visual
distraction. The stuffy apartment had no cable and the UHF
stations were a paltry mix of old-time revival, New Zoo Revue re-
runs, and any movie that starred Omar Sharrif. The two video
rental stores were no better, and expensive.
Greg waited for the VCR to crank up to speed, laying back on the
couch and slipping his shoes off. The tape started but was a
flickering mess.
"Shit" he muttered, than leaned forward again and fiddled with the
tracking until the image cleared up and locked in place. It was a
test pattern.
"Come on..." Greg complained. He waited for a few moments, than
impatiently hit the little silver-gray FF button, making the image
skip until something different appeared. He rewound a ways, then
set it on play and plopped back down on the couch. The test
pattern remained for a few seconds before fading out.
An image of Rhoda appeared. "Hi darling," she said. "I got your
letter today."
She was seated at her work-study table, a large adjustable one
with a top that could be tilted back and forth to varying angles.
She used it to draw sketches for her film ideas, as well as for
doing some photography and films of layouts. She was sitting in
her adjustable height stool. Apparently she had setup her video
camera to record her reply. Greg smiled.
"I haven't read it yet," Rhoda continued, "because I have this
project. We need to tape a subject doing something that evokes
different expressions and emotions, without any acting or
prompting." Greg frowned. She didn't mean she--
"So I'm going to record myself reading your letter outloud, and
since I haven't read it yet, as Mr. Dunloff will be able to tell,"
holding up the unopened envelope "I should give some useful,
realistic reactions."
"Oh fuck..." Greg moaned. He hoped that this tape would end
suddenly, with Rhoda turning off the camera before she got to any
of the nasty bits. Then he wondered if she were mailing the tape
to him because she was pissed off and wanted to end their
relationship. Rhoda wasn't too prudish but she was shy and
reserved about her sexuality. Greg started to consider fast
forwarding to the end of the tape.
"Lemme see..." Rhoda said, adjusting her position on the stool.
She was evidently looking at some monitor off to the side of the
camera. She had on a very yellow but simple blouse and light blue
slacks. "Color balances are not evidence of great talent" she had
told him once when gushing about her work. "A lotta times, though,
it impresses the teacher." Greg felt a twinge of jealousy slip
through him as he wondered how much of Rhoda's body impressed
teachers.
When she was apparently satisified that the camera would view her
reactions in the best possible manner, Rhoda opened the envelope
and pulled out the thick sheaf of paper. She raised her eyebrows
slightly. "Were you bored, or have you simply forgotten how to
type?" Greg snorted. He shifted into laying in a horizontal
position on the couch, hands under his chin. He had decided not
watching the tape all the way through would be a bad idea.
Looking at the letter, Rhoda cleared her throat and began to read.
Greg envisioned her reaction when she got past the first couple of
pages. But the vision was short lived when he considered how
reserved Rhoda normally was, except under "romantic" conditions.
As she read through the initial rambling, lingering occasionally
to make a comment to him (or to the teacher?), Greg started to get
mildly bored.
"'It's not too bad here, weather-wise. It's not like when we were
in Florida during spring break, with all that damned humidity.
Which is good because this apartment doesn't have it's own air
conditioning.'" Rhoda stopped reading and said, "You spelled 'its'
wrong there. Possessive pronouns don't use apostrophes in their
plural form." She smirked at the camera for a moment. Greg decided
he'd erase that part of the tape.
Rhoda continued on until: "'My boss is a real pain, kind of over-
demanding. But she's fair--' She?"
Uh oh, Greg thought. Rhoda was looking at him from the TV. No, he
corrected himself, she was looking at the camera when she was
recording it.
"You didn't tell me you would have a woman for a boss," Rhoda said
a bit cooly. She was a protective type of woman, and didn't like
her mate being available to any other females.
"I didn't know," Greg muttered. "Read the rest of the damn
letter!"
Rhoda kept looking out of the screen for a moment, then went back
to the letter, snapping out the next few words. "'But she's fair
and good natured. I guess grandmothers can't be mean--'" Rhoda
looked slightly embarrassed for a moment, then continued
sheepishly. "'--mean to anyone, even their workers. The amount of
work she gives me is tremendous though. I had to re-do their data
base system because of a change Mrs. Cullery wanted in the
inventory system.'"
Greg sighed as he remembered the painful re-writing using Lotus 1-
2-3.
On the screen, Rhoda shifted on her stool and put an elbow up on
her work table, resting her head on her hand. Computers were not a
strong interest point for her. "'The new system had to have extra
entries for texture of the clothing as well as some color scheme
refrencing system I still don't understand. I hope you can explain
it to me when I get home.'" Rhoda smiled. Greg smiled too, though
it was more of a grin.
"'I wish I didn't have to wait the next six weeks to see you
again, baby. Remember when we were talking before I left and I
said I'd survive?--" Rhoda begin to blush slightly, but she
continued with only a slight hesitation "--I lied. I'm stuck with
work that's boring as hell and when I come home there's no one
here to kiss me like you do.'" Rhoda was definitely blushing now.
"Greg, you didn't have to write this..." she said, looking at him
through the camera and the spool of videotape.
"Yes I did," Greg muttered. He had worked himself up into a real
frenzy when writing the letter and had jacked off two times before
mailing it, and a third time afterwards.
Rhoda hesitated before continuing. "'When I remember our last--"
she muttered the word "--I get sweaty and anxious. I know I
promised you I would never even flirt with another girl,--"
Rhoda's expression darkened for a brief moment "--but it's very
hard. Right now, in fact.' What the hell? 'If I were there with
you now I'd be--' Oh jeez!" Now Rhoda was blushing darkly.
This is it, Greg thought. She's going to drop it. I wonder how
pissed she is? Was?
"Well honey, I guess I can't use *this* as my project," Rhoda said
to the camera. "Too bad you can't handle no sex for a little
while." She giggled and smirked while Greg frowned.
"A little while, ha ha. Bitch," Greg muttered. "Just you wait..."
"But I miss you baby," Rhoda said seriously. "I wish you were here
too. Once my project is done I'll have a lot of free time and no
one to share it with. And even busy, I miss you." Rhoda looked a
little sad and Greg felt a bit of sourness in his insides. Here he
had been thinking about nothing but sex, ignoring his feelings for
Rhoda. He promised himself he would *not* forget what he felt for
her. And if that meant he had to spend more time with her, so be
it.
Hardly an unhappy arrangement.
On the screen Rhoda's image looked wistful for a moment, than
glanced back at the letter. She started reading from it again,
casually. "'If I were there with you now I'd be slipping myself
into you so fast you wouldn't be able to breath. You'd be on the
bed with your legs way up in the air on either side and I'd be
giving it to you hard.' Rhoda smirked again. "Real master of the
written word, aren't you?" Greg growled. "'Did you know you look
really sweet when you close your eyes and come in that position?'"
Rhoda was giggling slightly. "No I don't. You really are
desperate, y'know?"
Greg had obtained a building hard-on hearing Rhoda read his
letter. He wiggled around to try and make the bulge more
comfortable. No shit he was desperate!
"'I know you probably think it's terrible for me to write this but
I am too excited to stop. I keep dreaming about you and I wake up
with this hard-on that doesn't go away very fast, even after I
jerk off.' Oh Greg... You men are so unlucky." She licked her thin
lips nervously. As if revealing a dark secret, she said quietly
"I've been dreaming about you too."
Greg raised an eyebrow.
"'When I get home in August, you had better be ready for a very
horny guy who will fuck your brains out.' How ready do you think I
should be, Greg?" Rhoda asked. She seemed to be breathing slightly
harder.
"Naked, on your back in front of the door, with your legs spread,"
Greg said. He had thought about writing that into the letter but
had chickened out.
"Maybe I'll be wearing a negligee. Or my teddy. You like black
lace." She smiled with a hint of her sensual self coming through.
She went back to the letter, a bit more intently than before.
"'Maybe during the last week before I come home I'll save it all
up for you. We can try out that trick we talked about.' Oh! I
forgot about that! 'But I don't know if I have that much control.'
Yes you do. I should know." Rhoda smiled wickedly. Greg noted that
she had changed her sitting position on the stool so that her legs
were propped open a ways. Was she consciously or unconsciously
giving him a crotch shot? Not that he could see much, even through
the tight slacks.
Rhoda seemed to be reacting a lot more openly than he expected to
the letter. Maybe the camera had loosened her inhibitions. Or
perhaps it was the distance between them, acting as a buffer.
Whatever it was, he wasn't complaining. Neither was his enlarged
penis.
"'I get hard-ons at work sitting at my station in the back of the
storage room, thinking about you and how much I miss you and your
body. I swear to myself that when I'm back with you I'll make you
think you've died and gone to heaven.'" Rhoda's legs were swinging
open and close slightly, a regular rhythm of motion. "'I'll tease
you and play with your pussy until you scream. I can see it so
clearly in my head. Your legs are spread out wide on the bed'"
Rhoda unconsciously slid her legs down until the feet were just
touching the floor. They swung open. "'and your pussy is already
damp because you know how much I'm going to make you come.'"
Greg's hard-on was too painful to leave restrained anymore. He sat
up and managed to hit the pause button on the VCR. Then he undid
his belt and slipped it out of the denim loops before dropping his
jeans around his ankles and then stepping out of them. He hadn't
bothered to wear any underwear, so his thick, short cock bobbed
slightly in the stuffy air. A thin film of sweat was clinging to
his dark brown balls. Still in his shirt, he unpaused the VCR and
sat back on the couch, legs propped up on the scruffy table in
front of it. The tape continued.
"'I place my hands on your thighs and rub them, massaging the
muscles. My mouth goes to your pussy and I kiss you there. I lick
my way around your mound, tasting your pubic hair.'"
Greg wasn't sure, but he thought he could see a dark spot starting
to appear in the crotch of Rhoda's slacks. The video lines made it
hard to tell. He was definitely sure about her flushed face and
heavy breathing though. Unnoticed, his hand was gently rubbing his
cock.
Rhoda had always enjoyed being eaten out. It had been new for her
when they started dating. It quickly became one of the best ways
to turn her on and satisfy her. He listened to Rhoda as she
continued to read huskily.
"'I love to lick your pussy. You taste sweet and salty as I suck
on your pussy lips while you moan and beg. I really love it!' Oh
god Greg, *you* love it? Why do you think I want you to do it?!"
Rhoda's slender lips curled laciviously around the pink tip of her
tongue. There was no doubt in Greg's mind now that she had a damp
crotch. The stain was clearly visible between her legs. He rubbed
his index finger around the sensitive point just under his glans.
Thin, clear fluid oozed out of his piss hole and gleamed on the
ebony head. Seeing his girlfriend getting hot over something he
wrote was turning him on fiercly.
Rhoda seemed hesitant as she opened her mouth to say something
else. Her pixelated image rippled as a bad spot on the tape rolled
past the video head. "Greg," Rhoda said in her breathy voice, "I
know I act kind of prudish some of the time. I can't help it
because it was part of the way I grew up. I've tried to change
that, especially with your help." Greg began to feel embarrassed,
listening to his girlfriend's sudden outpouring of honesty while
he had one of his hands on his cock. "And I want you to know that
I'm *not* a prude."
With those words, Rhoda got off the stool and started to unbutton
her blouse. Greg's throat went dry. His girlfriend's blouse came
open with the last button and her small, flatly nippled breasts
appeared. Greg sighed, his eyes eagerly roaming over the video-
small reproduction of two of his favorite organs.
"Damn it," Rhoda said, as she noticed the dark stain in her
slacks. "Look what you did!" she accused. "You and your pussy
eating..." Rhoda's hands roamed over the crotch of her slacks,
assessing the level of damage done by her natural lubricants. Greg
stroked his prick, hoping Rhoda would do what she had not let him
see her do before.
"Ummm..." The sound escaped from Rhoda's throat suddenly. Her hand
was rubbing her crotch in a new but familiar way, the fingers held
together. Her eyes were closed. Greg had his wide open, his fist
sliding up and down his cock. The pulse of blood ran through it
with regular throbs, twitching the dark length slightly. Rhoda's
image stopped rubbing herself suddenly as she realized what she
was doing.
"Shit," Greg exclaimed, hoping this wasn't the end of what was
turning out to be a very great tape. It wasn't.
"I'm going to give you a present, baby," Rhoda said. She was
taking off her slacks as she spoke. "Because truthfully, I've been
pretty horny too. And I am *not* a prude!" This last comment
seemed directed more at herself than at Greg. Her slacks off,
Rhoda stood with her hands on her hips, facing the camera. She was
looking towards the side. "I'm too fat," she said towards the
monitor.
"Bullshit," Greg said. Why the hell did she always think that?
"Anyways, I'm going to do myself right here and tape it and send
the tape to you. And I'll be reading your letter while I do it!"
Rhoda gave one of her sexy smiles, eyelids lowered seductively.
Greg groaned in appreciation. It was a fantasy coming to life. It
was an unexpected surprise. It was making his balls pull up into
his belly.
Rhoda sat down on the stool again, her legs spread open and
crooked up part way so that she was perched with her cuntle fully
visible. She picked up Greg's letter from the tilted table, the
paper rustling as she flattened it out so she could hold it one
hand. "Where was I? Umm..." Rhoda skimmed over part of the letter,
than found her spot. "'I really love it! I love to taste your
juices and feel the hot skin of your thighs against my cheeks. You
make happy and excited sounds as I tongue your clit and then suck
on it gently.'" Rhoda's right hand was between her legs now,
rubbing and stroking her snatch. The camera wasn't close enough
for Greg to see the details enough, which was frustrating. He did
enjoy seeing her whole body, however, as she played with herself.
Especially her face. There was a look of concentration and
excitement on it, a quick darting of the tongue to moisten the
lips.
Rhoda was concentrating on the letter, her voice starting to
quaver here and there as she read it. "'I'm visualizing myself
making you cuh-come with my tongue and lips. My tongue is inside
your vagina, wiggling from side to side' Ummmmm... 'and then up
and down. I flutuh-tuh-ter the tip of my tongue and it makes you
squeal when I do.' Oooh! I love that! 'And I'm sssucking on your
mound all this tuh-time until you start cominnngg all over my
face.'" Rhoda's breath rasped slightly as she read, her chest
heaving. She had two of her fingers in her cuntle, using a
stirring motion, eliciting moans and gasps from he parted mouth.
Greg used the index finger and thumb of his right hand to
stimulate the head of his cock, its helmet shining darkly with
pre-cum. Each stroke seemed to add another notch in the belt of
tension surrounding his balls and cock.
"'I've gotten so hard writing this that I've had to ssstop and
take my dick out of my pants.' Aaaah! 'I know that I'm goingGNH to
jerk myself off befFFFfore long, thih-thinking about you and how
wonderful it'll be to fuck you again. To hold you steady as I pump
into you, your puh-pussy grabbing me and tryinngh to hold me
still. I-I have to relievvve it nnooowwww.'" Her eyes fluttered
slightly and Rhoda leaned back slightly.
Greg's long fingers stroked over the length of his cock. The warm
pads of his fingers gripped the burning skin of his erection,
coaxing out more pre-cum from the tip. He was pulling himself
closer to the point of grabbing the length and stroking. Dry heat
gently sucked sweat from him, hist shirt sticking to his back and
armpits.
"Ooooh, was my baby hornnny?" Rhoda's voice was tense and sensuous
at the same time. "Ummmm... 'I just finished. All I had to do was
thinnnk of you and I couldn't hold back. All over the wuh-
washcloth.'" Rhoda's right hand wiggled at the end of its wrist.
Two fingers slid up and down just inside the inner edges of her
pussy. But the view wasn't clear enough for Greg to see the glossy
juices coating her fingertips. "Aaalllll over the washcloth,
baby?" she said huskily. "You have big loads, but not that big!"
"Jussst wait," Greg husked, starting to pull the foreskin of his
penis up over the head and then back down. A slow, steady rate,
for now. "Hoover dam, Rhoda, just you wait..."
On the slightly dusty TV screen, his girlfriend was squirming and
fiddling, looking into the camera as if she wanted it to grow a
fleshy rod for her to play with. "I'mmmm sssoooooo hot now, Greg,"
she whispered. "I can't sit on this stool anymore." She got up and
put the letter down, then went up to the camera and suddenly there
was a flickering of silent snow. Before Greg could yelp a protest,
the image returned. With a new perspective.
"How's this, honey?" Rhoda said, laid out on the tilting table.
She had adjusted it so she could lay back with the support of some
pillows and prop her legs open, feet resting on the ledge of the
table. The camera had been shifted closer to the table, aligned
precisely with the vertical purse between Rhoda's pale thighs. A
naked, wantonly displayed woman, filling the TV screen.
"Ooohhhhhh, fuck," Greg moaned. He could see the sheen on Rhoda's
puss, drops of her dew entangled with the curly, dark brown pubic
hair. Fist squeezing, he stroked his root with vigor. The belt was
growing tighter, tingling around and in his cock base.
"I bet you'll be jerking your thing when you see this!" Rhoda
breathed. She pinched her nipples, hard and round already, then
rubbed the base of them with her index fingers. Cooing, she pulled
out Greg's letter (now distinctly wrinkled) and once more held it
in her left hand to read from. "'I know you'll probably be reading
this and blushing and getting upset--' Do I look upset, Greg?"
Rhoda put on a coy expression, which didn't come off well with her
fingers wiggling in her snatch, "'But I can't help myself. I
luuhve you and I love your body. I want you ssso bad it hurrrts.
I'm still huh-hard.' Oh yeah, you arrrre my hard baby who's going
to *fuck* his darling when he ggGUHets home!" Greg arched his hips
up and a little bit of semen drooled out of his cock. He was close
to coming now, with each delicious stroke. But he held back.
"Ummmm... oooh close..." Rhoda's eyelids fluttered again, one of
the unmistakable signs of her preparing for climax. "Unnnnmmm, oh
your letuh-tuhter... 'And I think I have to tell you about wuh-
what I've been fannghtuhasizing lately. You'll hate me for it but
I-I need to write it downnn.' ooh? 'I've thought abow-bout it...
before, not too offften though. I imagine layinGGNH.. your
beautiful body outuuhhh on a four-poster... bed? and tying your...
Legs and Arms down with SCARVES and then slowly making LOVE to
you' oh *GOD I'M GONNA COME*!" Rhoda's volume jumped up at the end
of her sentence like a bolting animal. Her left hand trembled as
it crumpled the letter in it. Her lower lip slipped totally under
its partner. Greg's semen started to push out of the hard stones
in his scrotum.
Breathing like a locomotive, sweat slicking up his arms and chest
and buttocks. Rhoda wailing and arching her hips to her hands
clutched there, the letter getting stained with juices that
sprinkled out with her vaginal contractions. Greg grunting and
then crying out and letting loose a shower of cum, hundreds of
little drops sprinkling his thighs and pelvis, his hand and
forearm. Pale white on dark browm. Rhoda's image on the phospher
glass twisting, moaning, jerking.
"UUUHH! UUHHHHNNNGGGGGGGHHH!!" Greg's semen sprinkled out again,
seperating the tiny edges of his cock slit. He forced the rest of
the juices out with hard, squeezing strokes. He panted and watched
Rhoda recovering from her own orgasm. She had let loose so
suddenly it had torn his lust open. "Ummmm... oh fuuuuhhck that
was good..." Greg rubbed his slightly softer prick gently, because
it was so sensitive. He enjoyed listening to the little sounds
that issued from the TV speaker. His girlfriend sighing and
panting over a climax HE had made with what he had written.
"Ooohhhuuuuuhhh... huuhmmmm... Oh God, aaaaahhh... oh yeah..."
Rhoda's voice crept to a mumble. Her head drooped to one side and
she let out a shuddering, ragged sigh. Greg's heart swelled,
seeing his girlfriend so relaxed and glowing. He'd never seen her
masturbate before but she had always been beautiful when she came.
It was true just as much now as when he was with her.
"Umph," Greg dropped his feet from the ragged coffee table and got
unsteadily to his feet. He paused the VCR, then stripped off and
got a damp washcloth and cleaned himself up. Phallus bobbing at
half-mast, he gulped the rest of his semi-cold beer and retrieved
another one from the kitchen. The fuzzy, tangy suds crackled down
his throat.
Thinking of how much better this was than just playing with
himself in the bathroom, fantasizing, Greg unpaused the VCR and
plopped down on the couch. The air was again filled with the quiet
sounds of Rhoda's heavy breathing and little sighs. Then she
spoke.
"Oh Greg... God you don't... know... Oh, I've never told you,
ummm, it makes me shiver when I think about," she opened her eyes
and looked into the camera, "about being tied down. Not helpless
but just... paralyzed. Whheeeww..." The crinkling sound of the
letter as Rhoda lifted her hands out of her groin. She giggled. "I
came all over your letter baby..." Greg's staff twitched a bit. "I
could *never* have told you about it... It's so embarassing..."
Rhoda was blushing slightly again. "But now... you know... We can
try it... Ummmmmm!" She giggled again.
Greg made a note to buy some sturdy, colorful scarves from work to
bring back home. Long ones.
It had only been ten minutes since his climax, but Greg's peter
was getting harder again. Just thinking about the fantasy that
could now come true made it bob into full hardness again. And a
similar effect must have occurred with his girlfriend.
"I'm still hot. Let's see what we can do about that..." Rhoda's
hand caressed her breasts some more, eliciting sighs from her
delicate mouth. Then the hand went back to roost between her
thighs. She started reading again. "'And now that I've admitted
that, I'll be happy to just fuck you regularly. I can't wait until
you're on top of me again and making those neat sounds while you
ruh-ride my cock.'" Rhoda gasped slightly, her busy fingers having
found a particularly sensitive spot. Greg was holding his breath
as he pumped his cock slowly, the wonderful friction charging his
glands.
"'You feel wonderful puh-pushing down on me and making me feel so
good. You have a perfect pussssy, it tastes great and it can
fuuuhn--fuck forever.' uh-uh-uh, god..." Rhoda panted in time with
the insertion of her index and middle finger, pushing the folds of
her slick twattles aside. 'I can feel every little bit of yuh-your
insides on my cuh-cock, uummm, pressing against me. And you slide
that wuh-wonderful pussy up and down, maa-makingggnh my cock wet
and slippery, oh, so that it fits inside that ssspecial little
spot a little be-below your belly buttonnn...' Oh yeah, fuck me
baby!" Rhoda closed her eyes and pumped herself with her fingers,
gasping. "Fuck oh please yeah, oh Greg I want it!" Greg was
furiously stroking his cock, wishing he had some baby oil or
vaseline or animal fat or *something*.
"Fuck fuck fuck," Rhoda panted on the TV screen, the small speaker
making her cries a little bit tinny. The index, middle, and ring
finger of her right hand were glistening gently, the first two
knuckles worth occupying her pussy as she shoved them in, than
appearing momentarily almost to the clear nails before vanishing
again. "Oh God I wannnt you ssssooo bad Greg," Rhoda whimpered,
her voice catching. His cock throbbed with need, pliant but hard.
"Please bae-baby," Rhoda cried on the video, "please come and ta-
take me. Ooooohhhh Gawwd..." Her eyes fluttered. "I need it... I
need *you*!" Greg felt his heart leap at the intensity of emotion
in Rhoda's plea, the wild look in her beautiful eyes. She really
did need him, body and soul. "Come, come, come to me," she was
chanting, wildly.
His chest was heaving as air jumped in and out of his lungs. Sweat
dimpled Greg's body, collecting in natural crevices and pockets.
Saliva and pre-cum lubricated his palm, making a tight and slick
orifice for his rigid, swollen cock. The apartment had grown
stuffy and thick with his masculine odors, the sound of flesh on
flesh. "Unnnnngh," he groaned, sweet pleasure prickling through
his testicles and shooting into his cock. "Come come Come COME
*COME*!" Rhoda's image shouted, her fingers pumping in a frenzy.
"oohhhhh GAAAAWWWD I LOVE YOU GREG!" His eyes snapped open wide
and Greg grunted, hips pushing into the air. Rhoda was orgasming
loudly, an expression similar to pain on her face as her skin
flushed a visible dark red. Greg gasped as semen came streaming
out of his straining penis, white jets jumping into the air to
land on his short, curly pubic hair. "Baby," he gasped as he
watched the screen, seeing his girlfriend's thighs shaking as she
shivered in the throes of some sort of throwback climax. Never
before had he wanted her so badly, to sleep with and hold and
cuddle and snuggle next to. The last of his semen dribbled out as
the videotape continued to unwind, the image of Rhoda slowly
relaxing with her head hanging down. He could faintly hear her
quiet little sobs for the next several minutes.
Then the image flickered away. A test pattern was slowly revealed
from behind a field of temporary snow.
It was ten minutes before Greg was recovered enough to get into
the bathroom and shower. It was several hours before he had
everything packed and was heading out the door, back to North
Carolina.
---*** THE END ***---