I lay flat against Lynda's naked body. Her hard, pointy breasts flattened themselves against mine, and I could feel the whole of her smooth flesh burning the touch of my skin against her. My legs slid around her closed thighs, and she arched up with her hips, plunging the cock even more deeply into me.
I pushed back down with my hips, and I could feel her end slide back into her cunt. I pushed, and she withdrew; she pushed, and I withdrew. The perverse rhythm of our two bodies built its own natural tempo. The cock slid in and out of my cunt, and in and out of hers. It was a strange feeling.
Her hands were on my breasts, squeezing and pinching their softness. She was kneading the flesh as though it were clay, and she was trying to mold the twin mounds in the hard, clutching claws of her fingers.
Lynda began to come almost at once. The cock had only slid into her cunt once or twice when she stiffened and began to moan wildly. She pulled at my breasts and stuffed them in her wet, greedy mouth, sucking and licking my nipples in the frenzied passion of her orgasm.
She hunched up and down against me, making the organ slide in and out, and the single set of balls first smack into her cunt then smack into my cunt. The cock impaled me as she arched her whole body up against me, grinding her cunt against the widely spread lips of my pussy.
"I'M FUCKING YOU!" she screamed at the height of her passion. 'I'M FUCKING YOU!"
Indeed she was. And doing a good job, too. The cock seemed to come alive inside of me. It was no longer rubber: it was flesh and blood, and it was pulsing and throbbing against the soft lining of my vaginal canal. I could feel the hardness of the head slipping in and out, scraping itself against the walls of my pussy, and sliding out almost completely as it spread the lips open around its thickness. Then it would plunge back into me, sliding deeply within my belly.
I could feel Lynda's cunt against me, round and hard and covered with hair. Our clitorises touched and rubbed together, allowing the discharges of our bodies to melt into each other. Her legs were burning logs between my thighs, spreading me and exposing my softness to the cold, hard thrusts of her secret cock. My nipples were soaked with saliva and were crying out for explosive release, as was the rest of my body.
It was Lynda's orgasm, I think, more than anything else, that made me come.
I knew she was coming, and the thought excited me. It was as though I had been waiting, holding myself in check for that single moment. And when she began to come, I could feel my whole body relax, and suddenly let go.
My own orgasm was on me in an instant. The cock slid up into my cunt, and Lynda was screaming her fuck in my ear. My legs began to tremble and my cuntlips felt as though they had fused. My orgasm was like a warm pool of water flowing through my cunt, spreading out and rippling up and down my body. It felt as though I had wet myself.
It was a long, deep come, from the tip of my womb out through the lips of my cunt and down my thighs. It moved smoothly and easily, spreading in a warm glow. It was more erotic than intense. It was sensuously pleasurable rather than being shatteringly climatic.
I moaned and savored the rich texture of the orgasm. I shifted my body weight, and pressed my nakedness against Lynda's. I wanted her warmth and softness, not her passion. I held her breast lightly in my hand, and stroked her damp, tangled, blonde hair.
I fell sideways next to her exhausted body. The bent, plastic cock was still deeply imbedded in each of our cunts, joining our bodies in mutual pleasure.
The sheets felt cool against my skin, and I closed my eyes briefly and enjoyed the softness of the pillow. I could hear Lynda's harsh, pumping breathing shattering the silence of the bedroom. Her breasts were heaving up and down fitfully.
At first I thought I had imagined it, but the second time I was positive. I looked up from my pillow at Lynda. She was sobbing, and two large tears were rolling down her flushed, passion-stained cheeks.
Chapter 3
"Lynda," I said. "What's wrong?"
She turned away from me, moving as far to her right as the dildo-yet binding our cunts together-would permit her to move. She buried her face into the pillow, and continued to cry. "What's wrong?" I asked again.
I leaned closer to her and brushed my hand softly through her hair. Her hair was damp with perspiration, and I could feel the fitful tremble of her body under my tender caress.
"Leave me alone!" she sobbed. She pulled her body violently away from my comforting hand. She wrenched her hips as she moved, and I felt a sudden, searing pulling through the depths of my cunt.
"Don't touch me!" she repeated.
I stared at her for a moment, allowing the pain to ebb from my body. I didn't know what to do.
"Don't cry…" I whispered softly.
I stood up on my knees, straddling Lynda. My thighs were open, and spread around hers. The dildo looked like some strange, flesh-colored wire that connected our two cunts. I reached down carefully between our bodies and grasped the U-shaped part that connected us. I grazed my hand accidentally across the fringe of Lynda's cunt as I moved my hand down, and I felt her cringe at the touch of my fingers. Her cunt trembled.
I wrapped my fingers around the cock and began to lift my body upward, off the bed. The cock began to slide from my cunt, moving slowly, like a great weight sunk into the depths of my body. I heard a wet, sucking noise as the lips of my pussy slid across the thickness of the organ. It felt as though my insides were emptying, and I had a sudden sensation that I had to urinate. The feeling passed, and I continued to pull the dildo out of my body.
I tried to limit the movement to my body alone: I sensed that any additional movement or pleasure might cause Lynda to completely come apart. I tried to hold the dildo stationary, moving only my body to free myself.
My knee slipped on the damp slickness of the sheets, and the dildo pulled forward, against Lynda's cunt. Her body tensed, and she made a soft, hurt sound with her mouth. A sob or a cry of surprise.
"I'm sorry," I said. I reached forward to stabilize myself by holding onto the headboard. I touched Lynda's cheek with my fingers. Her cheek was wet.
I slipped one leg forward and placed my foot flat on the bed. Then I repeated this move with my other leg, being careful not to make the dildo move again. I had both feet flat on the bed, and my thighs were bent. I was squatting above Lynda's cunt. I held the dildo with both hands, and straightened my thighs, standing up.
The dildo slid from my cunt like a long, thick log. Again I had the brief sensation that I was going to piss. I guess the dildo must have been pressed against my bladder.
Once free, I lay back down on the bed next to Lynda. The cock stood straight up from her cunt at a right angle. It looked both ludicrous and obscene. It was still wet from my cunt, and in the dim light of the bedroom, the cock seemed to glisten dully.
"What's wrong?" I repeated. I touched her hair and brushed it with my hand.
"I don't know…" Lynda finally said. Her voice seemed small and lost, like a child's. "I just don't know.
I put my arms around her shoulders and leaned forward against her. My tits brushed across her back, and without desiring it to happen, I felt the nipples tingle and grow hard with the contact of her body.
"Don't cry," I begged. I whispered the words into her ear, and I hugged tightly at her shoulders. I felt sorry for her, and felt a wave of compassion wash across me. I think I understood what was troubling her.
Her body looked strange. The top part was twisted away from me, and was buried against her pillow. Her legs were turned around, face up. I could just see the round curve of her breasts under her folded arms, and then just below, the sensual softness of her cunt mound covered lightly with the blondness of her pubic hair. Then, pushing up like an ugly intrusion, was the rigid thickness of the dildo. It was a strange sight.