It was then that I found myself stroking in and out of her. She told me to sit up a bit, and when I did, she swung her leg up and over and suddenly I was facing her in the missionary position, still deeply rooted in the very bottom of her slippery little pussy.

“Man, you're talented!”

“Practice, practice, practice,” she reminded me.

I slid myself in and out of her a few more times and she purred beneath me.

“May I?”

“If you don't I'll just be begging for it, and that ain’t very dignified.”

So I took her once again, and this time it was slower, sweeter, more sensual, and more verbal. We actually talked to each other the whole way through; sharing with each other how every little movement, touch, and texture made us feel. I can't really explain every little detail of it but it was very intense. We kissed deeply; we stared into each other's eyes, watching the reactions to every little motion and thrust and pelvic swirl. Her eyes would widen, then roll back in a daze, then they would close all together, then they would flash open in surprise once again when I thrust firmly right into the very bottom of her. It was amazing to watch.

We climaxed together. I told her I couldn't last much longer. She squeezed her sweet sheathe tightly around me and with some intense internal exertion, she was suddenly exploding in the spasms of climax. I thrust into this vibrating grip only a few more times before I joined her in ecstasy. She held me in a tight and loving hug until the orgasm was complete, and to my surprise, she still didn't let me go. My cheek was pressed up against hers, and I felt the wet trickle of a tear. I immediately pulled my face up and looked into her eyes. She was crying. What the hell!?

“You okay?”

“I'm fine, you jerk!” She smiled through her tears, avoiding my gaze. “Ya just made me feel all emotional there. Now I feel all scared and vulnerable, and completely fucking happy at the same time. What the hell did you do to me?”

She grabbed me in both her hands and kissed me all over my face. Her lips felt wonderful. I just stared into her eyes.

“What did you do to me?” she whispered.

“I made love to you. I think that's what it's called.”

“Well don't fuckin’ do it again. I don't wanna fall for you. I can't handle that. And stop lookin’ at me like that! And stop making me want to lay like this forever! And stop making me come every five minutes! I'm aching already!”

Her tone was harsh, but I knew she wasn't really angry. I stirred myself around inside her and she fell to whimpering instead.

“Sorry. Anything else?”

“You could fuck me one more time. That would be really nice. And I mean fuck me! None of this love-making shit! Give it to me hard, like the little slut I am. Don't spare the whip.”

So I did. I sat up, lifted her legs to my shoulders, and rammed myself into her over and over again, for almost twenty minutes. We screamed when we came, and I think I probably passed out or something, because the next thing I knew, I was laying beside her and she was just kissing my shoulder softly and sweetly. I don't even know how I got in that position.

There we lay, breathing, sighing occasionally, and staring at the ceiling. The clock on my dresser flipped over four whole minutes before she spoke again.

“You're incredible, Anthony. Not just how you fuck—that’s amazing and all—but how ya made me feel when you were all gentle there too, I actually felt loved. I felt safe and secure and adored—all these pretty emotional things to go along with the sexual stuff. It was… wonderful, and I don't normally use words like that.”

“Well feel free to fall for me if you want. I'll definitely be here to catch you.”

“I'll think about it. I don't think I'm brave enough, though.”

“Brave enough?”

“Yeah. I may be strong and confident when it comes to sex, but fer falling in love, I'm just a helpless little girl, too scared to let go of my daddy. I dunno if I'll ever be brave enough for real love. It's way too scary, too out-of-control.”

“I know what you mean. It's like there's this incredible pull in me toward falling for you, totally, like a little lost puppy dog, but I'm scared at the same time. Shit like that changes you forever.”

“No kidding. I've never been in love. I don't really know what it's like. All I know is it's scary having you at the door of my heart like this.”

The door of her heart? Wow! Suddenly I was bursting with joy inside, but I forced myself to remain calm, trying to be rational.

“Let's not open it right now. For all we know, this could all be just hormones talking. We're both drunk with the beautifulness of what just happened. It's a bad time to start diving into bottomless pits. Know what I mean?”

“Totally.”

“If we still feel this way, tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, we'll have to admit something’s up we can't ignore, but for now, let's just call it, I dunno… closeness, not love.”

The conversation paused as she reflected on this. Then she spoke in a more cheerful tone.

“Yer pretty smart fer someone who got his brains sucked right out his dick, what, five times now?”

“I don't normally last this long with other girls. The most I've ever done was three and a half times.”

“Three and a half? What do ya count as half a fuck?”

“I fucked Lindsay Fenstien three times once night. I was going for four, but her dad came home and just about caught us.”

“Lindsay Fenstien, huh? How was she?”

“She just laid there. It was pretty bad. At one point she was like, 'aren't you done yet?' What a turn-off.”

“No shit. You do have a monster cock, though. You were probably killin’ her with it. Ya gotta have patience with us gals. Not all of us can take bein’ ripped in half by this thing for too long.”

“I guess so. I wasn't exactly being gentle with her. Part of me didn't even wanna fuck her. I felt like I was wasting my energy on a chick who couldn't care less anyway. I might as well have just jerked off. I just did it out of horniness I guess. You on the other hand, I can't get enough. You make me feel awesome.”

“You are awesome, baby. The most a guy's ever done me before was three or four times.”

“Wait a minute, what about all these stories about your all-night marathon sex?”

“They're just stories. Most guys are freaked out by me. I’m too intense. They get scared away after a few times.”

“No kidding.”

“Yup. It's true. You'd be surprised how quick a big tough guy chickens out when gal ain’t intimidated by his macho act. Deep down, guys are all just little boys, try’na puff out their chests in a big scary world. Oh well. What’d ya expect from teenage boys?”

“I'm glad I didn't disappoint.”

“You did more than not disappoint. You wore me out! I’m just aching right now. I can hardly feel my legs or my ass.”

“I sure can feel them.”

“Ooh. That's nice.” I was smearing circles in the dampness on her inner thighs and she began squirming with the last remaining arousal I could muster in her. “I can't believe it! You're actually makin’ me horny again.”

“Tell you what. Let's go take a hot shower and see if we can't squeeze out a couple more drops from this guy here. I promise I'll be gentle.”

“I couldn't possibly… I swear, I'll fuckin’ tear something if I go again. I won't be able to walk! Have mercy on me.”

“Charlotte Lawsen, the Queen of Sluts, is actually saying no to sex. Have I really conquered the unconquerable?”

“Sure, go fer an ego jab, sneaky bastard. Now ya force me to defend my title.”

She got on me again, gingerly sank down around me once more, cringing and gasping with every little inch of penetration, and then slowly fucked another load out of me, my sixth of the afternoon. I was definitely shooting blanks by then, but it was no less intense being milked by her squeezing little crush of girl muscle.

She rolled off my body, panting, shaking, hanging onto me like the bed was too small and we were a thousand feet in the air. Her cheek pressed into my chest and her leg curled around mine. I held her close, with my arm under her neck and swooped around down her back, covered by her hair. I kissed the top of her head over and over, so glad she was with me.

“There. Now that's six fer you and about eleven fer me.”

“Eleven? I don't remember you coming eleven times?”

“I don't remember it either. I'm just guessing.”

My cock had not lost any of its hardness. My flaming lust for her kept it going by sheer will power, beyond even the instinct for self-preservation. I was exhausted but I wanted to fuck her some more. Call me a glutton. I swear it's true. Every move she made stirred up the basest desire in me to ravish her all over again. It was totally debauchery. She looked down and saw my cock still fully hard. She grabbed it and squeezed it tightly, astonished that it hadn’t gone soft.

“What? Again? Fuckin’ die already!”

“I can go again, but I'll have mercy on you.”

“Fuck that! We’ll see who conquers who!”

She got up again, still trembling, and turned onto her tummy to offer me her backside again. Her pride drove her into another fuck, this time with me on top of her. She lay face down on the bed with her legs slightly parted. I slid my cock into the crevice at the apex of her thighs and plunged down into her hole again. Then she closed her thighs beneath me, trapping me deep in the inescapable grip of her bouncing and jiggling pelvis.

She really did crush me in this position. Every motion I made in and out of her was a struggle against her tightness. My exhausted hard-on ached inside her, but I actually came sooner than I thought I would. I had to ram her like a piston engine to get there however, and by the time it was over we were both panting like we'd run a marathon. We were barely able to move, or even speak. We were soaked in sweat and various other fluids that had oozed out of our sexual connection. We lay there, feeling each other shaking, hearts beating, breathing hard until finally she spoke again.

“Truce?”

“Okay, truce. But I can go again.”

I throbbed inside her, and she winced as though I'd rammed a baseball bat up inside her.

“I absolutely can not go again! I swear. You've fucked me silly, Anthony. You've beaten me. Charlotte the Slut can fuck no more. Hold me as a trophy in your heart.”

“Can't we do it just one more time? Please?”

“I'll suck you off if ya want, but I’m so battered and bruised down there, it's actually hurting. Sorry.”

“We'll see how you feel after a shower.”

“I'm dyin’ of thirst here. Will you offer a lady a drink before you punish her even more?”

I fetched an ice-cold glass of water and she chugged it down without pausing for breath. Then she turned and gave me a deeply appreciative kiss with her cooled lips.

“That's better. Now let's get in the shower and see if we can't rub out one last orgasm from this little genie of yours.”

“You changed your mind?”

“What can I say? I'm a sucker when it comes to cock. I mean... Ah shit, never mind. Just promise you'll be gentle.”

“I promise.”

We got in the shower. It was hot and soothing, massaging our exhausted bodies back into relaxation. I got down on my knees and nursed her battered little cunny with delicate strokes of my tongue. She slumped against the shower wall and whimpered out such wonderful praise to me, that I swear she must have been delirious or something. Then she went down on me and I was once again hot and erect, though it hurt like hell. My lust for her would not be denied however, and I strained our battered privates even more, fucking her one last time. She stood up and I somehow wormed my semi-erect phallus back into her burning little hole. It took a good twenty minutes but I eventually came once again. It was a completely dry ejaculation, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. She didn’t come, though. She was aching from my abuse of her tender little privates. I apologized when I realized that I might have actually injured her, but she insisted it was a beautiful night. The aching and exhaustion she felt would be her reminder of what a hot fucking stud I was, she said, and she couldn't wait for another session with me…once she was healed up.

I drove her home after that, walking her to her door, and giving her a nice goodbye kiss. We agreed to continue working out our plans for the porn we would make together, and she staggered into the house like she had been hit by a truck. The last thing I heard before the door closed was her mother greeting her.

“Looks like someone's had a little too much of a good hard cock or two.”

“Just one, but oh my god! He was amazing, mom! He did me like ten fuckin’ times and I...”

That was all I heard. I got back in my truck and headed home with a broad I-just-fucked-Charlotte-Lawsen grin.

I slept like a baby that night and I was still sore the next morning; it actually hurt having a morning hard-on. I pissed it away and got ready for the day. Pain or no pain, it had been worth it. Charlotte is a goddess of everything that is sexy.

I actually missed her the next day too. The emotional connection we’d made was still there, for me anyway. It had not faded with the satiation of my libido. It felt scary and insane, but I managed to distract myself from that fear by focusing on the steaming hot fuck scene we would film together.

It was time to call my old friend Sheila Unger.

›