During the kiss I found a handhold on her buttocks and pulled her hard against me. It was a firm behind, and very hot. My fingers left white streaks in its pinkness where I clutched. It hobbled, rippling pertly, when my fingertips stroked the cleft between the solid, high cheeks.
Her curly, ink-black pubic hair pressed against the flexed muscle of one of my thighs. The mound it covered was slapping sponge-like against my flesh. The lips of her vagina nipped at my thigh muscle and her clitoris poked against it, bold and red and twanging. The hot fluid lubricating her love-tunnel was already flowing freely over her thighs and mine.
Her hands were under me now, scratching hard at my bottom so that my groin rose up in the air to escape. Her mouth darted down quickly and took a long, teasing suck at the head of my joystick. Her swaying breasts streaked over my chest, barely touching, the hot nipples teasing and tickling my chest hair and my own nipples.
I grabbed for her breasts. I was purposely a little rougher than I had to be. I fastened each of my hands around each of them. I squeezed hard, savoring their softness, their vulnerability. I let my palms open and close around those burning, hard nipples the way I envisioned her sheath muscles would soon be opening and closing around my hard, battering cock.
I tossed her over on her back now and let my mouth replace the hand at one of her breasts. I licked, I sucked, I bit. She moaned, she groaned, she tossed, she tried to turn. I got my free hand between her legs now and squeezed the oily, moist thigh flesh on either side of the pulsating lips of her vagina.
“Ach, du lieber!” She bit my shoulder hard.
I slapped her lightly to make her teeth cut loose. Then I licked my way down the length of her Juno-esque body. I trailed a straight line of hot tongue from the cleft of her breasts to her deep, winking navel to the free-flowing gash bisecting her mound. When my tongue touched the hard clitty there, she went ape.
“Voila! Let me feel it!” She grabbed my swollen ramrod with both hands and doubled up, trying to stuff it into her mouth without losing the contact between her throbbing cunt and my lips and tongue.
I helped her. “Soixante neuf!” she gasped. She gulped it eagerly and I felt my hard cock slide over the roof of her mouth and halfway down her throat.
My abdomen was resting lightly on her breasts now and I could feel them rotating under me. Bambi (the girl) had very sensitive mammaries. No matter what else was going on, she had to bring them into play, to press their fullness against hot flesh, to tease those groovy tips so that she could feel the hot hardness of desire there the way a man feels it in his erect penis.
She removed her mouth from around my penis and left it poking the air, red, hard and glistening with her warm saliva. She moved her lips and tongue lower, and assailed my balls. She got first one of them and then the other into her mouth. She licked and sucked them. Then she got them both in her mouth at once and her tongue washed them clean. When she came up for air she grabbed my filled-to-bursting penis with her hand and worked it like a Volkswagen gearshift—left and up, left and down, right and up, right and down, and then into neutral where she rubbed it up and down until it was all I could do to keep from letting go prematurely.
“Maron!” she exclaimed as I responded by tonguing her as far as I could reach.
I had to swallow fast to keep up with the flow of her lust. I turned my mouth into a suction valve and was rewarded by her first climax. Her hands tangled in my hair pressed my head down, my mouth against her pelvic bones so hard that I was afraid I might hurt it. But she was beyond feeling any pain. She just wanted the base of my tongue pressed against her clitoris, the tip of it probing the entrance to her womb rhythmically, my lips sucking the love-fluid from her hard-squeezing vagina. She wanted me to hold that combination of sensations while she twisted and writhed and screamed her release, flying on the wings of her orgasm, wanting it never to end. And when it was over, it turned out not to be over at all.
“Avanti!” she panted. “More! More amore!” And her mouth came down over my hard prick again, her throat opening to receive it, her lips sliding up and down its length eagerly. Then, just as I thought that surely I could hold back no longer, she pulled her mouth away and grabbed my stiff cock with her hand at the base, cutting off the circulation momentarily so that I couldn’t come.
She surprised me then. She jumped on top of me and I thought that finally she was ready to finish it off with a good hot fuck, my cock in her slavering cunt. Instead, she sat on me in such a way that my organ slid up into her anus.
I want to feel it in every hole in my body before you come,” she breathed.
She was facing my feet and I rose up to a sitting position behind her. Obviously she’d done this before. The substitute sheath was slippery clean and the muscles there grabbed me like a vacuum cleaner. I stroked a few times and she tumbled forward so that she was on her hands and knees. I fell with her and now I was mounting her from behind, dog-style. I reached under her and grabbed her breasts for support.
My hands on her dangling tits, even more than my stiff penis in her rear alley, seemed to drive her berserk. Her derriere, high in the air, spun like the blades of a ‘copter in flight. The more I plunged in and out, the more it spun in circles. She was making snorting noises now, and bucking like an animal in heat -- which she decidedly was. It was all I could do to keep my perch and keep slamming it to her without coming. But I wanted to hold off and fire my cannon at the juiciest target of all.
When she had her second orgasm, I didn’t give her too much time to savor it. I flung her on her back and plunged right in. Some times I’m very conventional. I just wanted to make love to her in the most ordinary position, with my penis in the most customary of holes.
I propelled her into a lust-building rhythm. With her legs wrapped around my hips, and her arms around my neck, her breasts were a fast-moving blur of target circles with red centers as her whole body matched the tempo of its movements to mine. We moved in and out, and round and round together, never missing a stroke or a gyration, our consciousness concentrated at our joined cores with mutual orgasm now the only aim of living.
The aim was realized. I may have yelled; I know she screamed. Our bodies rose in the air and hung there, impossibly balanced, while she had her third climax and I pumped so much lust juice into her tight sheath that it overflowed and covered my scrotum and her thighs with the creamy visible evidence of our truly mutual satisfaction.
We were both exhausted. Too tired, even, to talk. We both drifted off to sleep immediately.
Some time later some vague noises half woke me up. Groggy, I realized that Bambi (the dog) had finally succeeded in forcing open the door and was now in the room with us. I felt her furry weight pressing against my naked body as she settled beside me.
Why not? Hell, I was a little chilly on that side anyway. Without giving it another thought, I went back to sleep.
You know how it is when sex has been especially good and you sleep after it? Often you dream about it. That’s how it was for me now. I dreamed of Bambi’s (the girl’s) warm mouth working its magic on my genitals. I dreamed of her hot flesh under mine, of the downy feel of her pubic hair as it pressed against my groin, of the tight, grinding way her vagina encircled me.
And in my sleep, or my half-sleep, I turned toward her and caressed her and she caressed me and, still sleeping, we joined. That is, I thought we joined. But the jolt with which I shot my second load of the night brought me to full wakefulness and the shock of the sudden realization of my mistake.