Drew was all too eager to do exactly what the girl had asked.
He was now able to slug in and out, hammering his cock back and forth and ripping into her box like a maddened stallion. She was shuddering more violently by then and he sensed that any second the explosion would come and Janet Halston would go hurtling into the very maelstrom of her contagious release, for he too was about to get off, feeling his body tensing as the heat and friction permeating his cock continued to mount.
"More, oh man, fuck me blind, fuck me, pound it in," the girl whimpered, trying to whisper and trying to stop herself from crying out with delight. Her cunt muscles fibrillated around his bucking heaving joystick and when she finally began to come, when her orgasm took hold of her and knocked her just about senseless, Drew felt himself carried along on the raging tidal wave of the youngster's gloriously stimulating climax.
"Here it is," he announced with a trembling thrust, burying his massive and red-hot pecker down into the tight and searing depths of her pussy. "Oh yeah, you wanted it and here it is, feel it. Shit, yeah, feel my come. Oh Janet baby, what a load, yeah fuck, now, now!" he groaned, hunching forward and hissing between his teeth. He too was trying to hold back the savage and animalistic cries of triumph as he felt his body stiffening, his come triggering out like molten bullets of hot lusty semen.
The thick gushing wads of his rich spend poured like lava down the shuddering and overly stuffed well of her cunt, inundating her pussy with more than enough come to literally fill her twat to the brim.
He smashed his lips against her mouth and their cries of delight and ecstasy were thus muffled as more and more gism flowed into her muff, thick gooey curds of semen. His cock kept on ejaculating, one fierce volleying burst after another, so much cream pouring out that it seemed to him as if he hadn't fucked in weeks.
His balls contracted, banging now against her naked and writhing buns. The girl was beside herself, wedged up against the door, panting and shivering as the throes of her orgasm left her weak and totally fulfilled. And even after she had quieted down, experiencing the last searing rippling waves of pleasure, Drew Livingston was still going strong, unable and unwilling to hold anything back from her.
He poured his bounty into her tight and come-filled twat, loving everything about her, everything that had taken place. His hairy crotch was a shocking and startling contrast to her own relatively hairless and fleecy pubic mount and his burly body was glistening with sweat as he continued to shoot more and more rich hot come down her trench.
But finally, as it must, for all good things must come to an end, sooner or later, the last hot waves of pleasure and the last hot wads of come poured into her muff and he sank against her, gasping for breath. Her titties swayed up and down, each nipple just as stiff and turgid with trapped blood as they had been a few minutes earlier when he'd sucked on them with sexual oblivion.
Now, it was all they could do to try to calm down, catching their breaths as he gently eased her back into a sitting position. She inclined her head on his hairy chest, her heart beating as rapidly and quickly as his own.
His hands were wrapped around her back and he felt like father-lover-uncle rolled into one. Janet could easily have been his niece and he thought of that now and hoped she was still in Paris as Rachel Strauss had told him, as the girl had said she honestly believed. He couldn't bear the thought of meeting with failure. For if anything, this trip had only met with success from the start. First Rachel and now Janet, the two teenagers giving Drew more pleasure together than he knew he had really experienced in the last six months.
He held onto her as she sat on his lap and leaned against his burly chest, her eyes closed and her body glowing with an aura of rosy sexual contentment. Slowly and by degrees he was able to feel his penis losing its stiff and steely erection. It began to go limp inside of the girl's come-filled muff and even as thick warm curds of his spend oozed down around their crotches, slippery and wet, his penis too oozed down, sliding out until it finally slipped down and out into the open.
It plopped out loudly and draped over his depleted balls it was a whitish and pink sausage, long and still a goodly size. He could not have been more pleased when Janet opened her eyes, glanced down and suddenly and silently slid off of his lap to kneel between his thickset thighs. He hadn't said a word all this time, but he smiled with delight when she reached out and took hold of his limp tool, opening her mouth at the same instant.
A moment later he was shuddering, bathed in his own post-coital glow as the youngster cleansed his cock dry with her slim probing tongue, licking up the salty and viscous wads of semen which were adhering to his meat, mixed with her own musky vaginal juices.
He let her do as she pleased, no longer concerned about being discovered. But he also knew, even as the teenager continued to suck on his cock, that the best was yet to come. Namely, Amy Mitchell, his niece and hopefully, his future lover.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was with a certain undeniable degree of reluctance that Drew Livingston bid Janet Halston good-bye outside of the Orly air terminal. Customs had given her a hassle but she had gone through it, nevertheless, emerging unscathed from the untoward experience. He offered to drive her into the city, but she told him she was going to hang around the airport and wait for another flight to get in.
"I'm supposed to meet this chick I know in about an hour," she told him, thanking Drew for his concern and, needless to say, their most interesting experience aboard the plane. "You made my flight, what can I tell you," she giggled naughtily.
He kissed her on the cheek, made his last good-bye and waited in line for a taxi to take him into the city. But as he drove into Paris, his heart was not with the city nor was it light by any stretch of the imagination.
It was early morning and the sky had that marvelous clarity so indigenous to Paris and so unlike New York. But the beautiful thoroughfares and streets held little magic for him that morning. It was Amy he thought about, not Paris. It was Amy who occupied his waking and sleeping dreams.
And now, he had a single name to go by, a name that Rachel Strauss had given him under pressure and considerable sexual duress. It was, Livingston knew, better than nothing.
"I don't know… she just grooved on him. Maybe she was looking for a sugar daddy… how the hell was I supposed to tell her what she could and could not do? I mean, dig it Livingston, Amy's fucking independent, a free spirit…"
That had been the gist of what Rachel had told him, explaining how a few days before they were all scheduled to return home, she'd met a man at one of the cafes they were at, how the guy had come on really strong and how Amy had agreed to go out with him – "In style," avowed Rachel – for dinner.
"The next I knew she said she was gonna move in with the cat, said he was a gas and loaded with bread, that she'd live like a princess and smoke all the dope she wanted, he had everything you could ask for," the girl had concluded.
The man's name was Rene Martinon and supposedly, he kept an apartment in the city as well as a villa outside of Paris. That was all Drew had to go by. Once he had ensconced himself in his hotel room, he had the management send up a telephone directory. With the bellboy's help he was able to narrow his choice down to two possible individuals, both of whom bore the name of Rene Martinon, both of whom, flaunted properly acceptable and prestigious addresses.
Phone calls elicited responses at both numbers. But he hung up before speaking to his party, not wanting Amy to have any idea that he was on her trail… or Rene, for that matter. But the following morning, having divested himself of jet lag, he began his amateur sleuthing by arriving at around eight in the morning in front of one of the addresses he had gotten from the telephone directory.