Their bodies were working together now, her cunt squeezing his tongue, squeezing harder and harder, pushing her-his wetness in and out of her, his massive hands kneading her buttocks with a wayward thumb, a roamer, forcing its way into her rectum.
And then, with a pow, a teasing, weird sensation that-oh God, not now! But it was: his body started the slow all-over shudder that she knew signalled he was coming. She screamed within herself-she had to come, too, but she couldn't feel anything building within her. But she had to come. She just had to. But then with a deep moan and spasming body he came into her mouth, lava-thick, molten hot come filling her mouth, spilling out of it, smearing over her face, over his belly.
She collapsed over his cock, disbelieving. Shook. Her body screaming and aching.
If she talked he would be sure to get up and. go. But if she didn't, if she didn't how could she tell him what she needed. He was too young to know, to sense her need.
Her fingers moving gently in his rectum, she tried to kiss life back into his tool. Nothing happened. He was spent. She lay there disappointed, her bottom still heaving, unable to stop. That bottom wanted to be fucked, and fucked it would be-she hoped.
Pulling her fingers from his rear she slid down his body. Down to his toes. She licked the tops of his feet, hot licks. Then his ankles and shins. His knees. When she got back to his inner thighs he was quivering. Her breasts felt his tool hardening again, pushing against her soft tautness. She swung to the floor and lay there. She knew he was ready again.
She spread her hair behind her, running her ringers through it, arched her back, swung her hips in gentle arcs through the air.
Without a word, without a sound, he rolled from the sofa onto her and into her. The move was deft, but it was about the only thing that was. Once inside he ground the living bejesus out of her, which was precisely what she needed.
And while he labored over her she met his thrusts, feeling, knowing that this time she was going to make it and make it good, also knowing that afterwards she'd easily bring him to jumping his blocks off. She thought about her penis sandwich invention and was pleased. Larry would really appreciate this one. And at least he'd know what to do so that their mutual face-fuck would bring them to bliss together.
Boy, he'd love it. White cock and black bread. Great color coordination. And there were several other variations on the color scheme.
Like, for instance, bread, cock and marmalade.
Yummy, she was thinking, as Rudolph's efforts started her up the Big Cock Candy Mountain.
Chapter 5
She felt as she had when Larry had come home from Addis Ababa-the doll bit, sort of. But this time he was actually inside of her, and it felt good, all right. Except she wanted to grind, to hop, to thrash around. But uh-uh, he wouldn't even let her move her twat muscles. "Later," he said.
She was on her left side, the "blessed side" for this position. Samputa-tiryak-bandha, it was called, Larry said. He'd sampled others but he was sure this was the one that Gert would like best, at least for the first go-round. He had promised to show her some of the others in due course, had said in fact that from what he learned on his one outing they could have several months of positions and a variety of techniques. The sounds accompanying kissing, the kinds of kissing, the charms and potions, the biting and scratching, all were important and instrumental in total fulfillment. He didn't know them all but his sales manager in Bombay was seeking out a more extensive book than the one Larry had picked up in a back street shop there. His was supposedly illustrated but the majority of the picture pages had been torn out. While they lay motionless, Larry said that according to the book she was a mrigi-meaning she had a six-finger yoni. "That's middle category, and fine-fine for the size of my prick, which is a lingam. Yoni means cunt, by the way." "Naturally," she had responded with a sigh. "I've read the Kama Sutra and Ananga Ranga too, as well as the Perfumed Garden and-"
"Sure you have. We read them together, but they were a waste, right? Except for a couple of things in them, they were a waste. The whole point is that those books take for granted that you already know quite a bit. We didn't but now I do."
"Fine," she said. "Can I move around now?"
"No. You certainly have chanda-vega."
"Certainly. What's that?"
"It means you have an extremely high capacity for sexual enjoyment. It also means, an Indian' salesman told me, that perhaps I shouldn't be travelling around so much. Women with chanda-vega are known for their ever seeking carnal enjoyment. And, reportedly, they don't much care who they enjoy. Well, I told him that maybe that was true in India but back where I come from…"
This wasn't going to be the proper night for telling him about the penis sandwich.
Resides the book, Larry had brought home two other helpful hints. Helpful, at least, from his point of view.
The first was a woven mat, fairly interesting in its geometrical design, and fairly uncomfortable to be lying on too, as Gert could surely testify. But Larry had insisted that it was all part of the game. "And a rare specimen at that. A real sacred thing. This couple had had a fun-filled sixty years of sexual kama before they died of cholera or something. It's unusual for anybody to take out one from the country, one like this, I mean."
Reflecting on its hard and scratchy surface that was biting into her shoulder and thigh, Gert allowed as to how she could understand why.
The second item was also a sexual aid, and was at least softer. Which nicely took care of the good things that could be said about it. It was a jelly, disgusting-looking brownish cream. He wouldn't tell her what it was composed of but said only that he'd been assured that she would be his for life once he rubbed this onto and into her. And that he planned to do, first thing-onto and into all of her.
He had smeared it all over her body caressingly. Over her closed eyelids, in her ears, around her neck, in her arm pits. His hands worked the brown substance into her breasts, around her hips, in her navel and down her thighs. When he finished with her toes and legs, he slowly headed back toward her yoni, as he now referred to her cunt. Carefully he smoothed the cream onto her inner thighs, then turned her over onto her stomach while he ranehis hands into her crack and gently inserted fingers into her rear. In a clinical manner he daubed the sub stance around and around her rectum and when his finger was out he smeared the brownness around the outside of her hole and then palm-massaged it into her buttocks.
Turning her again onto her back, he concentrated on the yoni, making sure all the folds of her lips were covered with the brown goo. As he finished the outside his fingers scooped another supply of the potion from the small jar on the side of the bed, and worked the remainder of the substance deep within her.
It was crazy. Her muscles were starting to contract of their own volition. They were spasming and she couldn't stop them. In the long moments that he was rubbing the substance within her, she came. Once, twice-quiet, deep, very satisfying comes that surprised her. Larry looked pleased-and unsurprised.
"That was supposed to happen," he said, smiling at her. "Nice?"
"Nice," she murmured. "This stuff, Larry. What-?"
"Alum crystals. The active ingredient, anyway. They constrict the vaginal muscles, which also helps for what follows."