There was a knock on Mary Nally's bedroom door. Mary levered herself up on the couch, "Come in!"
"Your mother's all proud of herself for her meddling."
"Yeah, I know." Mary had stayed upstairs when she detected the roaring fight her parents were having at dinnertime. "How bad is it?"
"Bad. I let it all hang out, since she was. Let her know that things weren't peachy and that I wasn't a monk." Arthur settled in the recliner and started polishing his eyeglasses with his tie. "As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer grounded -- but your mother is another matter. Who knows? There may be divorce in the air..."
"Really?" This WAS bad!
"Yeah." Arthur sat a moment, musing. "I think your mother may have seen someone, 'way back, and she decided that I wasn't anything much... I've tried to be good, but that just meant I drifted into odd territory."
"Peep booths. Adult theaters. Anonymous meetings with others who needed sex as much as I did."
Mary nodded. "Guys, right?"
Arthur nodded. "I was trying to justify things -- to say I was being faithful, after a fashion... Of course, it's easier that way -- women want the exclusive thing. Guys just want sex..."
"Yeah, I know," Mary agreed. "Did you give Momma anything specific to worry about?"
"Maybe she'll cool down."
"The racist thing has her going hot and heavy -- and the homosexual aspects are icing on the cake." Arthur shook his head.
"Look, I'm not giving them up!" Mary insisted.
"I'm not asking you to," Arthur replied. "But your mother can make trouble for them..."
"She already tried!" Mary rasped. "She called Teddy's mom, and tried to get him into trouble -- but it didn't happen. Teddy came clean with his Ma and everything is cool!"
"I heard about that," her father replied, "although she presented it differently."
Mary mused a moment. "If she calls Stick's folks, his daddy is likely to laugh at her, since we already gave them the cover story." She grinned. "Maybe he'll make some comment about her being jealous of me over black dick..."
"Oh, man!" Arthur rubbed his face, but he was grinning. "What I wouldn't give to see THAT!"
"Which one, Pop?" Mary rejoined, "Stick's Daddy teasing Momma, or her taking some?"
Arthur sobered. "Well, both, actually. It might take the heat off of me... Besides, if someone got past her crap and got that thing working again, we ALL might be happier!" He sighed. "In the meantime, things are out in the open. I called her a hateful, frigid bitch, a racist, a homophobe, and fourteen other kinds of intolerant cunt -- but she wasn't doing a lot of listening and she assumed the worst when it came to MY activities." He sighed. "My secretary is likely to catch Hell -- and she doesn't deserve it -- but she's almost sixty, and if Irma has any sense, she'll realize..."
"You ought to go out and get something nice, Pop," Mary declared, "while there is still time!"
"It's probably already too late," Arthur sighed.
"Well, don't let ME hold you up if you need to move on -- I love Momma, but she's not good to you -- and if she's going to go after me, too..." Mary shrugged.
"We'll see. Good night, Punkin."
Arthur headed for the den, having decided that sleeping in his recliner was preferable to being in the same room with his wife. That left Irma plenty of time to scheme about ways to be rid of Mary's black boyfriend...
Leticia was pretty sure that Boris was asleep, but unsure what that meant for her. She'd not been allowed to leave after the ass-fuck; instead, Boris had made her crawl into his lap while he reclined in his recliner, wedging his softened cock against her extremely sore ass while he watched soft porn on cable and played with her nipples -- all the while complaining about her small titties...
Now, he appeared to be asleep, and she needed to pee -- what was the answer, here? Well, the bladder thing was urgent; she would cross the other bridge when she came to it. She struggled up carefully; Boris continued to snore gently. Pleased, she padded off to the bathroom.
That business was easily handled. Leticia returned to the sitting room and stood over Boris, eyeing him in the flickering light of the softly murmuring television. Now what? She couldn't imagine getting back onto Boris's lap without waking him, and was uncertain what the outcome of that might be. On the other hand, if she returned to her quarters without a release from the big bear, Mr. Wilson would punish her even if HE didn't! Idly, she took him in; he was wide, squat -- but not fat -- she had learned THAT the hard way! Oh, he was thick in the middle, but he could toss her around like she was nothing while pile-driving her with that fat cock of his...
Boris did not open his eyes, but suddenly he rumbled, "You should be kneeling on floor..."
'Oh, shit!' Leticia's knees gave of their own accord; she cleaned up the position after they thumped on the floor so that she was kneeling properly upright, legs spread, hands on her thighs.
Boris made a production of opening his eyes. "Good. I would not want to have to open your tushie again tonight..."
Leticia couldn't agree more! "No, Sir."
"Go to the bed and make yourself wet. I wish to do things the regular way." Leticia nodded and rose. "Little one! Crawl!" Leticia stopped, dropped to hands and knees, and resumed heading for the bedroom, chastening herself. Had he told her to crawl everywhere? She didn't remember that...
Boris levered the chair to its upright position, silently amused. Best to keep her jumping, and set high standards early. So, should he get another blowjob? Enjoy those thick negress's lips? Or fuck her again? Fuck. Definitely. He got up, scratching his chest, and ambled into the bedroom, flicking off the TV on the way.
Leticia, flat on her back with her legs splayed and both hands in her crotch, watched the big bear enter the room. Getting wet wasn't that hard tonight; she was already working three fingers in her tunnel while whipping her clit with her other hand. It was as embarrassing as Hell to masturbate like that, but, hey, if he liked it... Besides, she'd done it the day before.
Boris DID like it, too! "So, you know what it is to get ready for Boris, eh? Good!" he approved. Walking around to the side of the bed, he took her head in his hands and repositioned her using it as a handle, causing her to scramble a bit. "Continue, but give Boris your lips... Ahhhh... Little titties you may have, but you know how to suck..." His thick cock disappeared into Leticia's mouth. Holding her by the head, he pumped himself in and out a few times, then held still while she laved him with her tongue. More pumping, for a half-dozen strokes, then another pause while she sucked and lapped on her own...
Something about the involuntary portions of the blowjob -- when he manhandled her head and jammed his thick cock into her mouth -- set off washes of wetness in Leticia's vaginal passage -- along with making her more than happy to conduct the more voluntary actions. The whole thing enhanced her masturbation, which fed back on the blowjob, too. Leticia was taking big breaths through her nose, not because Boris was interfering with her breathing, but purely from excitement.
Boris withdrew his cock from Leticia's mouth, the pop as her lips let go an indication of just how into the blowjob Leticia had gotten. "We fuck, now." He circled around and got up on the bed.
Leticia stopped masturbating; it was apparent that foreplay, such as it was, was over -- but then, she was in pretty good shape, anyway, from the masturbation and the face-fuck. She raised her knees, Boris knelt up and placed his blunt cock at her opening, and Leticia reflected that this night's effort probably wouldn't compare with the previous one; after all, Boris had already cum in her ass...
She was wrong. "Grab your knees," Boris grunted, then proceeded to grasp her by the hips and pull her onto his thick joint as if she were an inflatable doll. Leticia's eyes popped, and her mouth opened to emit a squeal of pain brought on by the abrupt insertion, but Boris grunted, "Nyet! Silence!" and she removed the vocal component, settling for a whooshing breath. At that point, the fucking machine went to work and Leticia realized that Boris's energy didn't seem to be sapped by his earlier efforts after all! He shoveled his hands under her just above her narrow hips, keeping her from being pushed up the bed by his pounding attack as his battering ram of a cock forced her open again and again, penetrating her until his pubic bone smashed into hers over her clit.
There was no escape, and the pounding was relentless; Leticia HAD to react! Boris was ironing her inner lining and crashing into her clit twice a second; Leticia hauled on her knees, hunching herself -- which lessened the impact on her clitoris, but gave Boris a straighter shot into the depths of her quaking tunnel. That penetration and the fact that softer was better where clitoral contact was concerned put Leticia on the rollercoaster ride to her first orgasm of the evening. Thirty seconds later, Leticia lost it, dropping her grip on her knees and instinctively arching herself as she wrapped her arms around Boris's neck and crushed herself to him, wailing out her completion. Boris took this interruption in his own quest for orgasm in stride, chuckling, "Little slut enjoys her work, eh? You like riding Boris's cock?" Since Leticia was obviously unable to respond for the moment, Boris merely chuckled again and resumed pounding, powering right through her period of rigidity and the collapse that followed. When she started showing signs of resuming full consciousness, Boris grunted, "We are not done yet, Little One -- you must take Boris's seed again! Be ready -- Boris will get HIS now!" With that, he slid his hands up under Leticia's shoulders, lowering himself, and resumed jack-hammering her twat -- faster, if anything. He began nibbling and sucking at her neck, something that started gently but escalated until he was nipping her and emitting guttural growls -- but Leticia was already far gone on the way to her second cumming, and all the work on her neck did was raise her temperature! Leticia started shaking, a sure sign that a big one was coming -- and Boris rose up and howled, "Now it comes! Now you take it! Now you be WOMAN!!! HAAAAAA!!!!" Once again, he scooped her up and manhandled her up and down on his hot poker the half-dozen times that it took to bring him to his final extremity, then erupted inside her, flooding her distended gash with his boiling cum.
Leticia felt the first shot blast into her passage, spurting onto her cervix, and she went wild, the promised orgasm stiffening her in a frozen arch supported by Boris's heavy cock and his powerful hands. Boris continued to pound himself into her crotch, howling, for a half-dozen strokes before grinding her crotch into his while she undulated to the waves of her orgasm. Finally, she relaxed, and went limp -- and Boris rode her dead weight to the bed, collapsing atop her, his energy finally leached away, his last thought as he rolled off the skinny negress a vague intention of offering a word of approval that was snatched away by unconsciousness before it reached his lips.
Bianca was soaked! Pete had given her a thorough examination, even working his index finger slowly into her cunny -- and it had been SOOOO good, but she was holding his beautiful cock, and it was SOOOO big! "Pete, I'm scared... It's so big!"
Pete shrugged. "Okay, then we won't..."
"No, no! That's NOT what I meant! But am I wet enough?"
"Well, you're pretty wet, but you're also pretty tight -- I'd like to have some lube available, but I don't have any..."
"Don't you have anything oily around here?" Bianca whined.
"Not that I'm aware of. I could go looking for something elsewhere, but..." Romance had been killed once today, already. Damn! She looked good enough to eat! Waitaminnit... "I think maybe we'll just supply a little more stimulation..." Pete lowered his face to Bianca's crotch.
"Dios mio!" Pete's mouth -- his tongue -- washed over her labia, then delved into her channel. Bianca barely had time to react to that before Pete's tongue found her clitoris and things got REALLY intense! Her hips rolled and she moaned aloud, "Oh, my God!" Her hands settled onto his head, burying themselves in his dark curls as wave after wave of sensation rolled over her, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" His cock was there, in front of her face, and it was irresistible. She sucked in the tip and closed her eyes, transferring the sensations flooding her back to Pete -- not really working at it -- she didn't have the available attention for that -- just sucking the head and washing it with her tongue.
This was a minor distraction to Pete, but it was pleasant; he let it ride and concentrated on the tongue-lashing he was giving Bianca's crotch. Saliva wasn't an incredible lubricant, but when he worked his finger back into the entrance of her channel, it was clear that Bianca was juicing. Bianca's hymen wasn't really intact -- he could work through it with his finger -- but there was plenty there to tear when something larger entered. Still, from her strained grunts, thrashing legs and surging abdomen, and the death grip she had on his head, Pete's tactic was working and it was getting to be time to take advantage of that success. Backing off for a second, he asked, "How about now? Are you ready?"
"Ooogh! Yessss!" Bianca wailed. The finger in her vaginal mouth caused the occasional twinge, but it was also doing wonderful things -- and that tongue! My God!
"Okay, I need a rubber. Get it from the nightstand..." Bianca didn't react immediately, so he cajoled, "C'mon, Sweetie, we have to be safe..."
Bianca was barely there. She had an orgasm on the way, and trying to do something was going to put that off. Still, it was what she was here for... She struggled to get at the drawer and fish out the little foil packet, fought to tear it, then examined the ring-shaped rubber owlishly, trying to determine which side was the inside and which was out, while her clitoris itched and tingled and screamed its urgency and the promise of suffusing her with pleasure.
"Give it to me, Sweetie," Pete murmured. He hated the things, but there was no way he could risk making Bianca pregnant. He had to withdraw the finger in her vaginal mouth, which caused a mewl of disappointment -- but he needed both hands to fit the rubber. Now to get her over the top... He repositioned and knelt between her legs, opening her up with his thumbs while he worked her labia and clitoris, avoiding her vaginal mouth as he figured that her natural lubrication was superior to spit.
Bianca opened her legs as widely as she could, lifting her knees and rocking as the orgasm Pete had been creating rushed at her, "Oh! Oh! Oh ..." Then it hit -- that wave of ecstasy! Pete's tongue created an orgasmic release in her unlike anything she had ever experienced; she surged and hunched herself against Pete's head, clutching him to her while she rode it out, "UuuuuuuuUUUUUUUGGGGHHH!!!" The thing seemed to go on for hours -- and DID for a good ninety seconds; Pete was in a fine position to know, since she wasn't giving him a whole lot of room to breathe. Finally, she collapsed and relaxed her grip on his head, "Oooooohhhh...."
Pete raised himself. "I think it's time now, Sweetie..." It was best to get her now, while she was relaxed from the aftermath...
"Yesssss..." leaked from Bianca's lips. Pete didn't know whether she was agreeing with him or still on another planet, but either way he figured that he had the go-ahead. He repositioned, wedging the head of his stiff cock in her entrance.
Bianca looked on, watching the procedure through the valley of her desire-flushed breasts with a curious detachment brought on by the aftermath of her tremendous orgasm. There was a distant twinge of fear, but the lassitude in her muscles didn't allow her to make the instinctive move to close her knees. Neither did it grant her the capability of uttering an intelligible response when Pete asked, "Are you ready?" -- all she got out was "Uuhhmmm..."
Her eyes were washed out, too; Pete took that calm expression and her mumble as confirmation, and initiated the procedure, snapping his hips to bury the first two inches of his cock in her. Pete had considered taking it slowly, but that seemed to merely prolong the inevitable and ultimately provide more pain...
"Ow!" Despite the warning and the expectation, the stinging flash of pain and the certain realization that something had been damaged surprised Bianca. Pete stopped moving immediately, though, so things backed off pretty quickly -- except for an unprecedented feeling of fullness. That Pete wasn't fully inside her was obvious; could she take it all?
"Let me know when we can continue," Pete gasped. "The worst should be over, but I want you to get used to things..." Bianca's vagina had his glans in what felt like a death grip -- like a cork in a bottle -- but it was also hot and wet enough to feel just about perfect.
Bianca merely nodded, wide-eyed, thinking, 'My God, I'm a woman!' They hadn't gotten to the fun part yet, but that rip -- that was it! The protective seal was off; she was 'used'! Even at her age, she knew enough to realize that many women never got to the 'fun part' and that Pete was working hard to see to it that she wasn't one of them -- but the deed was done; if Pete went no further, she was still deflowered. Only then did she suffer a momentary pang of buyer's remorse; it dawned on her that now that her status had changed, childhood was gone, in some ways, and in the race to adulthood she might have undervalued what she had...
And then Pete moved...
Actually, he backed up a bit; it was just too good for him to be able to not move at all, so he backed up just a touch. And, yeah, there was still a raw place -- but it was sort of itchy, like a paper cut, and every OTHER nerve in contact with Pete's cock was reporting that something with a new, different, and thoroughly pleasant texture was stimulating it! "Oh!"
"Are you okay?" Pete was instantly solicitous. Dammit! He should have waited!
"Oh, yes! In!" Her hands went to his hips to coax him, but she retained SOME caution, "Easy..."
"Let me know..." He started forward. Her hands encouraged him to recover the territory he'd vacated and a bit more before shifting to applying pressure to halt him. Pete got it, stopped, and slowly reversed. The back-stroke was good for both of them; Bianca's lining clutched the flared crown of his glans, and her ruptured hymen complained less about being pulled on than being pushed on. Still, Bianca was tugging as soon as the ridge passed her opening, so Pete headed back in.
This time, he got about halfway before Bianca signaled a halt -- and it WAS a halt; she resisted him backing out, too! "Stay there a second," she panted. The shreds of her maidenhead were giving her grief on the in-stroke -- something that the rubber was undoubtedly not helping -- so she called a halt to give herself a chance to lubricate. The fact that this was her first time got her a bit more lubrication than she would normally gotten, too -- in the form of blood -- but she didn't know that. All she knew was that it got wetter, so she coaxed Pete back into motion.
Pete started backing, but Bianca signaled that she wanted deeper penetration, so he eked out another three-quarters of an inch before her hands requested a reversal. This time, they savored his full retreat before her hands told him it was time to piston forward.
This time it was easier on her -- smoother, and a little faster. Pete was instinctively kicking it up a notch as the urge to bury himself to the hilt in his hindbrain struggled with his conscious desire not to hurt his partner any more than necessary. He took another full inch of territory before she got her hands placed to stop him; it was a bit more than she would have let him have if her control had been better, but ultimately it didn't hurt anything.
The withdrawal was faster, too -- and the new depth and time and other factors brought to her eyes a dark stain streaking the shaft of Pete's piston. That caused another signaled halt; Pete glanced down to track Bianca's widened eyes, "Oh. It's... not a lot..." Bianca nodded tentatively and released him.
Since the in-stroke continued to be less pleasant, Pete opted for a quick one -- and hurtled right past his previous mark. Obviously, Bianca was adapting... Her eyes popped, but Pete backed out more slowly, and she began to smile. He stopped naturally at the normal point -- the crown of his glans gripped by her opening -- and powered forward again, this time going to the hilt and granting a little clitoral stimulation. Her eyes flickered in surprise again, but she was beyond attempting to control him and he was beyond requiring it; clit bashing was a good thing, and he hadn't QUITE bottomed out inside her -- and the irritation to her ruptured hymen was just that -- an irritation. One side-effect of Pete's sharp in-stroke was that the tissues were unable to resist, and thus were rapidly abrading away and becoming less and less of an obstacle. He continued to stretch the out-stroke until it was clear that she had accommodated him to the point that they both required more friction, at which point he went into more steady motion.
Bianca experienced her first sex with a male as a series of amazing changes of state; she was full -- she was empty -- she was full -- she was empty -- full -- empty -- full... Fullness was satiety, the impact of Pete's pubic bone on her clitoris (the only stimulation she had known, previously) the cherry on top; emptiness left her unsatisfied, pining for fulfillment -- and the friction of the transitional phases brought pleasure... Very quickly she stopped watching Pete's cock pistoning into her -- now it was time to FEEL it, to concentrate on the pleasure. She rubbed his flanks, watching the expressions flicker across his face; some of them would have been hilarious, except for the obvious fact that Pete's entire being was focused on feeling his cock, tuning its action as an instrument of pleasure. At this moment, Pete WAS his cock -- everything else was merely the delivery system. Amazing to her was the fact that she could process any thoughts at all, floating on an ever more urgently rising plateau of pleasure -- but then, maybe it was instinct -- after all, her hips were rolling, tuning themselves to Pete's motions in order to get the maximum amount of pleasure, her feet on the bed so she could hunch and lift her pelvis to meet his more and more powerfully pounding strokes. She didn't think about it -- her body just did what her vagina said was the most pleasurable thing...
Pete was beyond conscious thought, too; it had dropped away when Bianca started spurring him on with little touches, lifting her pelvis, and murmuring "Ummm... ummm... ummm... ummm... "; (Interestingly, she was basically unaware of two of those activities...). Now, what capacity for attention that wasn't focused on his efforts at providing them both with pleasure was focused on her eyes -- eyes which seemed to get larger and more luminous by the minute. Was it any wonder that when they got huge in the realization that the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced was rolling down upon her, then went flat and unseeing as the explosion swept her consciousness before it, that he experienced a sympathetic detonation, riding the first wave of his ejaculate in it's race to her womb?
Pete was the first to recover. "I'm sorry, Sweetie..."
"Huh?" Bianca looked confused. "Why?"
"Well, I hoped to give you two..."
"But it was wonderful! Perfect!" Bianca gushed.
Pete shrugged. "I'm glad you feel that way. But there might have been more, if I hadn't gotten all caught up in your excitement..."
Bianca smiled and hugged Pete to her. "That wasn't a BAD thing! That was a GOOD thing! It... adds to it -- I was good for YOU, too!"
"Oh, yeah! Very!" Pete agreed.
"See?" Bianca preened a bit. "I was ready, after all."
"So you're all right?"
"Uh huh. Great! I feel... complete!" Bianca smiled sunnily.
"It didn't hurt too much?"
"Oh, no! You did everything just right!"
"I was worried that I got away from myself, there..." Pete admitted.
"It was time... If it hadn't hurt at all, that might have been better -- but then it would have been no big deal, either! No, this was just about perfect..." She hugged him to her. "Let's go to sleep."
"Ummm, not a good idea," Pete countered. "We need to get rid of the rubber. I'm gonna shrink, and then there could be a mess -- even, potentially, a failure... If your belly started to swell, your Mama would be VERY unhappy..." He grinned to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm gonna have to pee..."
Bianca grimaced. The idea of having Pete withdraw from her brought instinctive resistance -- she LIKED that full feeling! But he was probably shrinking already... "Oh, all right. I'm gonna ask Mama for birth control."
"I'd insist on it, if I were her," Pete agreed, "but she's Catholic..." He started backing off, reaching down to ensure that the rubber was coming with him.
"Then I'll go through Mister Jason!" Bianca insisted, mildly petulant.
"That'll probably work," Pete agreed, his attention more on rubber extraction. He'd FLOODED the damned thing! There was semen halfway back up the shaft! "Wow! I really loaded this thing..."
Bianca sat up to watch, and noticed the other issue -- bloodstains. "Oops! We should have used a towel! Your sheets..."
Pete looked up from peeling off the rubber and smirked, "Does either of us need a souvenir?"
"Just kidding. Don't people in your country have some kind of tradition of showing it off?"
"Well, that's after a wedding, to prove that the bride was virginal to her marriage bed. I'm afraid that this would be a negative thing..."
"I wanted it this way."
The aside put a damper on things for a moment; Pete got up and disposed of the rubber, washed himself off, got in his post-coital leak, and returned to Bianca bearing a wet washrag and a towel. "Let's see to you..." There ensued a period of cleanup and examination; the damage didn't seem to be any too extensive, and most of the blood was either on the sheets or had been carried off on the rubber. "Okay, now what?"
"I still want to sleep with you." Bianca replied. "I'd have kept you inside me, if I could..."
"That's a great way to become a mother..." Pete chided.
"That's so bad?"
"Wait a couple of years," Pete advised. "Why don't you climb on top?"
"I'd like that!" Bianca did so, arranging the blankets over them.
Pete got the light. "G'night, Sweetie." That was the last thing said, but a lot of necking and skin on skin contact followed before the pair drifted off...
Paul Matheson lay awake in bed, pondering the changes that had occurred in the past couple of days. Tabitha had drained his balls -- again -- and had been manic about it, riding him cowgirl style, hard and fast; Paul smiled at the memory of her titties going every which way while she bounced up and down, giving him the play by play: "Oh, shit this is good! Damn, Lover, I just LOVE this pecker of yours -- it seems ta have just the curve in it ta rub on my G-spot! Shit, I'm gonna have two black eyes from these things floppin' around..." Paul didn't have a history of serious success in this position, for a couple of reasons -- the vast majority of his partners of late weren't built for it, and it surrendered a little too much in the way of control -- once they got going in that position, women generally started sliding back and forth on a cock, rather that running it in and out, which could be painful for the male. But Tabitha managed to get hers without succumbing to temptation and while allowing him to hunch into her from below; add the grip of that amazing pussy and you got an incredibly satisfactory ride...
Tabitha made it fun, too -- the crazy crap that came out of her mouth indicated that she was there for fun, not because she expected him to be romantically interested in her -- and the 'fuck buddy' approach had him actually feeling around inside the door of the trap, rather than defending himself. Now, while she lay atop him, boneless, snoring softly, Paul was going back and forth with himself over how insane it was versus how good it was. Rational thought told him that there was no reasonable expectation of a future to the relationship; there were a ton of obstacles, including color, her profession, his profession, her addictive personality, the fact that both of them were more or less set in their ways... On the other hand, Tabitha seemed fine with most of that shit and kept insisting on crawling into bed with him. What to do about it wasn't clear; if he continued to accept those advances until she changed her mind, was he taking advantage of her? If he was, (and his gut told him so), could he bring himself to make commitments, given his track record?
Tabitha gave a snort and a start, then settled back down -- but one eye opened. "Yer awake..."
"Bones pokin' ya? I'll get off..."
"No. Well, maybe a little, but that isn't it. What are we doing, here?"
"Well, we WAS sleepin' -- least one of us was." Tabitha rolled off Paul and onto her side, then propped herself on her elbow, "What'cha so fuckin' worried about?"
"Bad habit. Any time things start looking too good..." Paul muttered. "When are you gonna start wanting things from me?"
"Y'all mean besides twenty-four hour protection from pissed pimps, a roof over my head, and a lotta good dick?"
"Um, yeah, besides that." Paul chuckled. "I'm getting paid for the first two," he pointed out.
"Yeh," Tabitha agreed. "An' if I understand the bidness agreement, I'm gonna hafta pay ya." She eyed him. "But that ain't the important part, is it?"
"Well, things are getting gray in spots..." Paul allowed.
"Awright." Tabitha sighed. "I don' suppose y'all believe I let you stick your dick in me purely fo' the fun of it, do ya?"
"Well, you've been pretty convincing," Paul admitted, "but I'm not CERTAIN..."
"An' you probly never will be, willya, Honey?" Tabitha eyed him.
"Well, I'm a suspicious character," Paul admitted. "Goes with the territory. It IS the working assumption -- but the reasons..."
"Hmph," Tabitha grunted. "They ain't clear, huh? Hell, they ain't real clear to ME! Le's get a look..." She started ticking off things on her fingers, "I fucked a few, an' I gotta feel for somebody who's up-front an' no bullshit." Tick. "Bruthuhs tend ta be silver-tongued bullshit artists or they jus' try ta keep ya in line by kickin' yo' ass -- so I done developed a thing fo' white boys." Tick. "Y'all don' talk shit, but y'all make it happen -- an' it's there, like, in jus' 'bout everthing ya do! Y'all don' make no promises ya cain't keep, and when ya do make one, ya deliver. Dat puts ya above jus' 'bout everone I know..." Tick. "Last, but not least, jus' lookin' at ya makes my pussy itch. Cain't explain it -- it's jus' there..." She managed to shrug, despite her position. "I ain't got a goddamn thing ta offer ya 'cept twat -- an' y'all been clear 'bout the fact ya won't take it in trade -- which is pure you, an' somethin' I'm pleased about, but it leaves me fuck-all fo' a grip on ya..."
Paul shrugged. "You're better off. If you HAD something, I'd be busy breaking clear..."
"Yeh." Tabitha's eyes were hooded. "Le's hear your piece."
"Big thing is that I compromised my professional ethics," Paul grunted. "That's bad, in my business. PIs don't get credit for much as it is, and when you DO have a rep for doing shit right, you want to keep it..."
"I still ain't clear on what's so bad..." Tabitha mumbled.
"Well, it's like this -- if I'm in too close, either I can get emotionally involved, which clouds my judgment and makes me less effective trying to protect you -- or I'm just flat-assed taking advantage of you. Neither one of those options is a good thing, for you."
"Well, I got no complaints 'bout how I'm bein' protected -- seems like it's bein' handled pretty well. As to the other thing, if I stick it out there an' I beg ya to do it up, you ain't 'zactly stealin'..." Tabitha opined. "What else?"
"Well, no offense, but black women weren't even on my radar last week, and even if they had been, I dunno if I'd have picked YOU out of a lineup, but..."
Tabitha grinned. "But? Or is that butt?" She swatted herself on the ass.
Paul chuckled. "Both, I guess. You're, well, a different animal, I guess. The way you come at things tickles me, or at least is generally something I can agree with. And, hey, no matter what my opinion of your female parts as far as appearance and wear and tear, they sure work!" He shook his head. "That kind of thing is hard to pass up -- REAL hard, when it's THAT good!"
"If ya hadn't made me sound like a garbage scow on the front end, I'd be blushin' an' shit!" Tabitha grinned.
Paul shrugged, embarrassed. "I'm just trying to get the truth out there..."
"Dat's fine..." Tabitha nodded.
"I figure we're both kind of stuck in our ways. I'm pretty much a straight-arrow..."
"... And ain't much straight on me at all!" Tabitha laughed.
"Lazy cunt..." Tabitha chuckled. "Y'all forgot neat -- so I could admit to bein' a slob! Honey, if opposites attract, it's a wonder we can move -- we oughta be glued together!" She shook her head. "Is it that bad?"
Paul ran his hand through his brush-cut. "That's the fucked-up thing -- I can't get excited about most of the bad stuff! On the other hand, there ARE a couple of killers out there..."
"Awright, le's see if we can work through this shit!" Tabitha waved for him to continue. "Go on, le's hear the deal-breakers..."
"Dope." Paul got it out of the way first.
"Dat weed, or jus' shit ya shoot or snort?"
Paul thought about it. "I haven't smoked in quite a while, but I might look the other way over an occasional doobie. That's OCCASIONAL...."
Tabitha nodded, ruminating. "Been doin' pretty good, without... No guarantees -- ya might hafta hang me out a coupla times before I get totally over it, but it's a plan..."
Tabitha shrugged. "Shit seems ta look better seen clear; didn't useta be like that, but it's sorta lookin' that way now..."
"I can't figure out how to handle your profession..."
"Got sumpthin' against hookin', or datin' a hooker, or what?"
Paul frowned. "Nothing philosophical against hookers, that's for sure. I've been using their services for too long. As for dating a hooker, the jury is out..."
"Honey, I gotta earn a livin', an' I owe a few people a piece. I ain't gonna stop. On the other hand, you be the first man I been bareback with in five, six years -- maybe longer! If ya hang around, that's the way it'll be..."
Paul nodded slowly. "I wondered about that."
"Wasn't no accident." She waited a moment, but he'd clammed up. "What else?"
"Well," Paul fidgeted. "It's this protection racket. The agency's been in kind of a gray area before -- the kind of surveillance we do is 'WAY too intrusive to be legal -- but a long-term deal supporting hookers? It seems like -- I dunno -- the line's been crossed..."
Tabitha scratched her head. "You got trouble bein' a bodyguard, or you got trouble bein' a bodyguard while bein' a private dick?"
Paul rubbed his jaw. "The latter, I think. I feel like a PI ought to have a nodding acquaintance with the law. If I were to hire out as a bodyguard, or do private security, then it's more, I dunno, 'us against them', I guess -- and if 'them' is the cops, so be it. But as a PI, I can't think that way -- the cops are a resource. Witherspoon's agency is very professional -- a great team -- but they're almost totally caught up in Mr. Wilson's affairs -- and now that his daughter and his wife have moved in, I figure that there will be layoffs..."
Tabitha made a face. "Ummm, actually, you be kinda hittin' 'round sumpthin' I gotta deal with. I'm gonna need a security dude -- somebody that can keep us girls from steppin' in shit an' to deal wit' that Witherspoon fucker. He'd be puttin' shit over on me alla time -- I got no idea how that shit works. I need a dude dat knows that shit inside an' out -- an' can keep us up an' runnin' even if Witherspoon heads off somewheres." She eyed him sidelong. "You know anybody like that? Company man? Salary might be shit ta start, but the bennies? Woo Hoo!"
Paul grinned from ear to ear. "I'll sleep on it -- maybe a name will pop up..."
Ed stuck his head out his door, looked right -- clear. Then he looked left, and surprised Velma in her nightie, about halfway between his room and hers. 'Great minds think alike,' went through his head, and he rasped, "You lookin' for what I THINK you're lookin' for?"
Velma looked bashful. "Well, yah."
"Turn your big ass around, and head back to your room, then," Ed instructed.
"Awww, Ed!" Velma whined.
"Just shut up," Ed interrupted, "I'm right the fuck behind ya!"
"OH! Well, in DAT case..." Velma began retracing her steps. Hot damn! Moah dick!
Ed shook his head in self-disgust. What wasn't apparent was which of them was worse -- her for suddenly developing an itchy pussy, or him for being unable to resist it! Ridin' Velma was like ridin' a moped to a biker's meet -- you were gonna get laughed at when the others saw ya! But, hey, what the fuck? Good pussy available forty feet from his door an' he was gonna pass it up? Not fuckin' likely! Shaking his head, he closed Velma's door behind him.
Caitlin McGrath came up for air. She and Howard had gone from 'dancing' to necking standing up, to necking on the couch. Now they were going back and forth; first Howard would lean in and maul her, kissing fiercely so she couldn't anticipate where those four hands of his were going, then he would back off and she would chase his lips until she was draped on him, playing basically the same game. It was great --Howard was all over her tits, and her unbuttoned blouse might as well not be there -- but it wasn't getting them to dicks and pussies! Caitlin's twat was a swamp, and she wanted to see Howard's tool in the worst way... "Let's go in the bedroom where we can stretch out!"
The look on Howard's face said she'd surprised him by stretching the envelope -- again -- but his "Okay," was game. He got up and waved her toward what turned out to be a reasonably neat bedroom; the bed wasn't 'made', but the spread was flipped up fairly neatly. Laundry was confined to the laundry basket, and there weren't any SERIOUS stacks of this and that lying around. Caitlin plopped her purse, which she had collected in passing in the living room, on the nightstand, prompting a questioning look. "Supplies," she murmured, stripping out of the totally defeated blouse. Howard shrugged. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked. "The blouse is just in the way. So is the skirt, for that matter. Wouldn't you be more comfortable if you got out of those trousers?" 'I want to see your dick, dammit!'
"Okay, I guess. Want me to turn the heat up?" Howard asked.
"I'm plenty warm, Dear -- you've been doing a FINE job of keeping MY blood pressure up!" Caitlin undid and stepped out of her skirt, draping it on a nearby chair while Howard absorbed the compliment. That didn't keep him from turning his back when he shucked out of his trousers, though. Caitlin, who had crawled up onto the bed, watched, amused, as he first methodically emptied his pockets, then sat and took off his socks, before standing, removing his trousers, and hanging them neatly in the closet. "I keep looking for your mother."
"She's a slob," Howard replied, "a constant embarrassment. I learned that organization is more efficient, early."
"I hope I'll measure up!" Caitlin backpedaled.
"If things keep going as they are, I suspect that I'll discover that you bring things to the table that Mother doesn't," Howard grinned.
'Always the high-end approach,' Caitlin mused distantly while she took in the banana-sized bulge in his briefs. Either he spent a lot of time storing fruit in his underwear, or there was a serious stiffy there... 'Doesn't he ever just talk like regular people?'
Caitlin's regard embarrassed the Hell out of Howard, so he minimized things by moving rapidly onto the bed. Caitlin pulled him in tightly as he leaned in to kiss her, and only released him fractionally when he finished, locking eyes with him and querying, "Howard? Promise me you'll get into my pants? You've been teasing me for HOURS and I really, REALLY want you to..."
Howard jerked in surprise. She'd done it again -- pushed things beyond the step he was preparing for and on to something several further on... Working to compensate, he remonstrated, "I'm surprised you left them on..."
Still holding his eyes, Caitlin started struggling with the bit of nylon. "I'm just trying to keep from pushing you too hard..."
The panties got beyond comfortable range for her hands; she was working them off her legs by rubbing and kicking -- but Howard didn't look. "You're not succeeding."
Caitlin froze. "Oops! Sorry!" Now, her panties were at her knees and basically unrecoverable with anything resembling grace...
"Why are you in such a hurry?" Howard demanded. "This whole deal has been this sudden rush job... Did I win the lottery or something, and I just don't know it yet?"
"No." Caitlin's shoulders slumped and she looked away. "Look, I'm a simple girl where sex is concerned. I can't pick a man for a relationship with a computer and a stack of personnel files -- I learned that a LONG time ago -- so I generally go for the quick hit. I get horny, pick up a man, and have sex. Generally, that's it. Generally, it's better that way, because the man I picked up is no catch."
She turned back to him, continuing, "You're different. You're not a stranger, and you're a LOT better than the class of guy I've been collecting lately. But I have bad habits -- when I want it, I want it. You've given me about six times the amount of foreplay that I'm used to, and..." She looked away again. "This is complicated. I let my hair down; now you know I'm a slut. We have to work together, and you're a nice guy -- heck, if I believed in the relationship thing I'd be floating! More likely, though, I'm going to have to go looking for a new job..."
"What?" Howard blinked. "Why?"
"Well, you can ruin me," Caitlin pointed out.
"I doubt that -- your girlfriends know you sleep around. I knew you slept around before tonight. So what?"
"What if, say, things go well for you, but not for me?" Caitlin countered. "That could bring about a LOT of hard feelings..."
"What about the opposite?" Howard countered. "Unless you wanted to spend a lot of time smearing me, I don't see it as an issue..." He shook his head. "If you consider the whole thing to be so dangerous, why are we here? Why did you suddenly decide that it was time to push me into doing something more than just looking?"
"I TOLD you!" Caitlin wailed. "My daughter has this... theory... and I thought..."
"What were you looking for?" Howard pressed. "A one-nighter? I don't think so. Every indication says you were looking for more..."
Caitlin suddenly realized that she'd been drifting all over the map. "What I WANT is for you to be 'the one'! But what I expect..." She shook her head.
"From where I sit, you're dead on track to fuck this up -- mostly through low expectations. Has anything gone seriously wrong yet?" Howard demanded.
"Ever since you blind-sided me earlier today, you've been running things. Since you seem to have lost track of where you're going, why don't you let ME run things for a while?"
"O-okay..." THIS was a new and different Howard! 'What's next? The discovery that he's an axe-murderer?' Caitlin thought.
Howard took charge. "These aren't doing anything but getting in the way, now," he pointed out, snagging her panties with a finger. "Might as well shuck 'em." He shifted toward Caitlin's feet and slipped them off. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he cocked his head and shrugged. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander, I guess..." The T-shirt went flying, then Howard backed off the bed and dropped his briefs.
Silence reigned. Howard was staring at Caitlin's dirty blonde bush, wondering if it was time to start exploring it -- and Caitlin was happily eyeing a VERY nice cut cock! Oh, boy! Caitlin had experience with the average -- and more experience with the less than average -- even a little experience with the more than average! She'd tried blacks, Chicanos, Orientals... All varied widely, but you could generalize. Blacks tended to have size on their side, but to be kind of flexible -- and real problem children OUTSIDE a bed. Hispanics tended to thick, stubby cocks -- or small ones -- and had ego issues. Orientals tended to be built like kids -- all over -- but very stiff and hard. That left white guys -- who varied, but tended to be so-so -- bigger than Orientals, longer than Hispanics, but less than competitive in size with larger blacks -- although they tended to be solid when erect.
Howard was bigger than the average white guy. In Caitlin's experience, white guys floated in just under six inches, on average, despite reports that they should be a bit more -- but Howard looked to be at least an inch and a half beyond the average -- into black territory, actually...
Caitlin triggered the next act by the simple expedient of raising and spreading her knees; it wasn't deliberate -- more or less an automatic reaction to the sight of that beautiful dick. Given proof of Caitlin's receptiveness, Howard crawled onto the bed between her legs and slid his hand up her right thigh to engage her twat -- something that might have taken some time, had he been left to his own devices. Caitlin drew in a gasp as his fingers traced her droopy inner lips; Howard glanced up, but she was good -- in fact, she was still busy eyeing his cock! "Problems?"
"Uh uh!" Caitlin denied with some fervor.
Howard started seriously exploring Caitlin's womanhood, asking questions as he examined her both visually and with his hands, "So, do you go out looking for sex often?"
'Where is THIS headed?' "Every couple of weeks, I guess." Caitlin craned her neck to get another look at Howard's dick. Was it really that big?
"So, you've seen a lot of guys' equipment?" Howard's thumb settled over Caitlin's clit while his middle finger probed her hole.
"Well, yeah..." The fingers felt great, but the conversation was making her uncomfortable. "Look, if it's a problem..."
"Noooo... I just kind of wondered if you figure you have a good statistical sample..."
"Well, yeah, I'm embarrassed to say..."
"So, I'm deformed, or something?"
"What? Why?" Caitlin shook her head. Dammit, did they HAVE to play twenty questions while he was rubbing her off?
"Well, you keep eyeing it..."
"You don't make it easy!"
"Oh." 'Might as well get it over with...' Howard circled around to his left, putting himself beside her while trying not to disengage his hand -- which didn't work, because her raised knee was in the way. Reaching through between her legs brought him almost over her, his cock bobbing over her right breast. "Better?"
Caitlin's look of fascination was impossible to ignore. "Okay, what's so weird about it?"
"Then why are you staring? Is it too small or something?"
"What? Oh, no!" Caitlin deliberately engaged Howard's eyes. "I just can't get over it -- it's the most beautiful dick I've ever seen!"
"It's beautiful!" It WAS! Up close, it only got better! Howard's dick had a beautiful purple head over a long, smooth slightly curved shaft that had to approach eight inches, gently bobbing to his heartbeat -- which told Caitlin that it was rock-hard, too! Caitlin had seen bigger scrotums on guys -- Howard's balls were loose and baggy, but dangled well -- but usually on guys who were shortchanged in the dick department.
"It's... got to be kind of average..." Howard mumbled, surprised and embarrassed.
"Oh, no," Caitlin basic simplicity and honesty led her onto what could be shaky ground. "This is world-class for a white guy! Can I touch it?"
Howard blinked. 'For a white guy?' "You've been with black guys?"
Caitlin turned a 'deer in the headlights' look on Howard. "Y-yes."
Howard pursed his lips. "Are the legends true?"
"Well, yes and no. They DO run a little bigger, on average -- and some a LOT bigger -- but they tend to be kind of... lank."
"Droopy? Flexible? Bendy?"
"Bendy?" Howard smiled in spite of himself. "Go ahead." Caitlin visibly switched tracks and shifted her attention back to Howard's cock, gently reaching for it. General familiarity was obvious; Caitlin started jacking him almost immediately, wiping her thumb over the tip when her hand reached it. "Am I bendy?"
"No. This is... quite nice." Caitlin continued rubbing Howard's dick. "Ummm, would you like me to... lick it?"
This sat somewhere directly in the middle of one of Howard's favorite fantasies. "Okay..." He shifted a bit more to his left and watched in thrilled amazement as Caitlin leaned up and wrapped her lips around his erection. "Oh, man!"
Caitlin backed off. "You don't get blowjobs?"
"Well, they're cheaper, but if I'm going to have sex... And the few women who offer sex for free aren't usually interested..." Howard hissed as Caitlin re-enveloped his cock with her lips. "You don't mind?"
Caitlin disengaged again with a loud pop. "A beautiful thing like this? Besides, what you're doing for me..."
Howard remembered his hand and put it back to work, "Am I doing all right?"
"Mmm hmmm..." Howard had actually managed to combine a couple of very pleasant activities, and Caitlin was warming up rapidly. Backing off again, she asked, "You do that a lot?"
"Shit, no! I'm just guessing!"
"Wow, no shit? You're a natural! It's GREAT!" Caitlin enthused, smiling as she recaptured his dick.
"Well, you're no slouch!" Howard was beside himself! Caitlin's mouth was doing such incredible things -- how on Earth was he going to hold out? "Look, I don't get this a lot, you know? What if I..."
The withdrawal pop sounded. "Cum? Well, I dunno. Can you cum twice?"
"Uhhhh..." Howard stopped dead. "Well, once is usually all I can pay for..."
Caitlin shook her head. "What about when you jerk off?"
"Oh! Yeah... actually, I tend to do that first, since hookers are all about making it last six seconds..."
"Okay, just enjoy yourself. I will." Caitlin went seriously to work on that beautiful hunk of meat. It was soft and clean and sweet, with a nice, spongy tip -- and it was drizzling just a little bit of pre-cum... Caitlin started vacuuming it, sending chills through Howard as she worked the underside with her tongue and ran her lips over his shaft and the sensitive head. Whether she intended to swallow or not was an open question -- and one that Howard was afraid to ask. The whole thing was just incredible; Caitlin OBVIOUSLY knew JUST what she was doing, leaving Howard in agony and ecstasy.
Catching his eye, she directed a significant look at her crotch. "Oops! Sorry!" Howard restarted his hand, which he'd forgotten to keep moving when Caitlin got going. Howard was amazed; the reality had improved upon his fantasies by a considerable margin. Caitlin was just... hot!
Caitlin would have been hard pressed to disagree. Howard was managing to set fire to her twat, one-handed, while providing additional impetus to her arousal through his obvious enjoyment of her oral attentions. This really couldn't have been better; Caitlin had, over time, learned to put up with quite a bit from her lovers, and even to enjoy some things that other women might consider objectionable. As a result, Caitlin inhaled the musk of Howard's arousal, enjoying both it and the fact that the smell of a clean body bearing a whiff of cologne underlay it. The musk aroused her -- and the fact that it wasn't fighting with less-than-perfect personal hygiene only improved things. Howard's pre-cum was coating her taste buds, which dulled the flavor somewhat -- but Caitlin had a cure for that! Engaging Howard's glazed eyes, she deliberately impaled herself on his erection, forcing it deep and confirming that, yes, it was long enough to require deep-throating...
The process wasn't smooth, something Howard could tell both by feel and by the effort reflected on Caitlin's face. But he popped through and she held him deep for a moment, obviously gagging -- and Howard was just overwhelmed! This went some distance beyond his fantasies...
'That did it,' Caitlin thought, backing off. Gagging had turned on the spit machine, which helped wash the pre-cum off her tongue while providing additional lubrication. From the look on his face, it hadn't hurt Howard any, either... Deliberately, she lodged him in her throat again, this time only momentarily, before taking a few more short strokes over his glans. Then she went for thirds...
Howard's eyes bulged. Caitlin had upped the ante significantly in the previous thirty seconds, and the combination of WATCHING her do something that for him only existed in legend and FEELING it shot him right over the edge! "GAAAAHHHH!!!!"
Caitlin got the point milliseconds before control was lost and pulled back, washing the underside of his dick with her tongue as it went diamond hard and started to buck. When the load came, it wasn't huge, but it was potently flavorful -- and Caitlin LIKED the taste of jizz! It was no accident that she was giving Howard head -- she gave most of her men head, because she liked collecting the product! Cum differed from man to man, and even from day to day, but it was all good to Caitlin; in college, she'd been a serious cum-dumpster. Howard's juice was thick, meaty -- almost chunky -- obviously, HE wasn't getting laid NEARLY often enough!
Howard came to his senses and tried to back off, but Caitlin got a hand on his hip and followed him, milking him dry -- and incidentally nearly driving him insane by not allowing him to escape while in post-orgasmic over-stimulation. "Oh, shit! I'm sorry! Ooohhhh! Easy! Easy! Aaahhh!!!" By the time she let go, it was clear that the apology was unnecessary; in fact, Caitlin looked pretty pleased with herself. "That was..." Words failed him. Howard could count the blowjobs he had received in his life on one hand; hookers made short work of him that way, so as he had already indicated to Caitlin, his habit was to masturbate, then go out looking for sex from a hooker -- and he would get vaginal sex, rather than a blowjob. The quality of this effort, however, had been over the top -- there just wasn't any comparison. Caitlin hadn't tried to hurry him, either -- it had just happened.
Caitlin licked her lips, grinning. "Good stuff!" Then she looked anxious. "Hey, uh, are you gonna..." Her eyes again swept to her crotch, where his hand had once again stopped working while he was distracted.
"Oh, absolutely!" Howard put the hand back to work. "Hey, how about if I...?" Howard stuck his tongue out.
Caitlin's eyes shone. "That'd be GRAND!"
"Okay. You'll have to talk me through it -- I'm not exactly an expert." The few girls he'd managed to bed had mostly come from the "EWWWW!" school -- and hookers weren't appetizing... The first issue was position -- did he climb atop her, or circle around from below?
Caitlin came to his rescue. "Why don't you climb on top and we can sixty-nine? Then I can give this guy a little more TLC..." She jacked Howard's still semi-hard member.
"Okay." Howard stifled concerns over his weight being atop Caitlin's narrow frame, promising himself that he would carry the load on his knees, and began to reposition. He had to extract his right hand; having it between her legs meant it was in the way. Since she WAS narrow, straddling her turned out to be less of an issue, anyway... All of this was a side issue to Howard's primary focus: Caitlin's dirty-blonde pubic bush and the loose-lipped slit below. Braced with his forearms run through under Caitlin's upraised knees, Howard had no problem nosing into Caitlin's gash -- which was fairly good sized, considering the woman it was mounted on. The aroma of her arousal wafted up -- rich, but not pungent -- inviting his tongue to join his nose. The loose, wrinkled inner lips were much more prominent than the outer ones -- a less than compact design -- but it made finding her clitoris no problem at all. Howard went to work on it, discovering in the process that when fully erect it was about the size of a nine millimeter bullet -- which is sizeable, and enough to actually be able to suck on -- and that when he lapped it, his nose tended to poke at her vaginal opening -- something ELSE she seemed to be pretty pleased about, if you went by the moans and groans she was emitting!
"Uuuuhhh!! God!" Howard's fingers had been pretty smart, but his lips and tongue were SOMETHING! Getting her pussy licked wasn't something Caitlin got a lot of; usually, her one-nighters got their rocks off once in her mouth and/or once in her pussy -- and that was it. Twat-tonguing was seldom on their short list. Howard hadn't hesitated (detectably), and he'd gone to work with some relish -- which actually surprised them both! -- causing Caitlin's hips to jump and roll as she danced between the urge to get it all and over-stimulation. Howard's position above her made additional work on his dick difficult -- even when she pulled him down a bit, the more erect he got the harder it was to get at his tip with her mouth -- but the things he was doing to her twat made that kind of concentration absolutely impossible! Caitlin settled for sucking and tonguing the underside at the root and sucking and lapping at Howard's dangling balls -- both of which were novel sensations for Howard -- but it was an effort in the face of serious distraction; Caitlin was well on the way to a BIG cum, just from a tongue job! "O God, Lover! You're killing me! I'm gonna explode!"
Howard wasn't about to stop! He was having a ball! Caitlin's fluids were tasty, and the way she reacted to his efforts was a powerful inducement to continue controlling her through pleasure. He was as hard as nails despite his recent orgasm and Caitlin's less than dedicated efforts, just from the excitement of feeling and controlling her climb to orgasm -- could he do it?
Oh, yeah! Howard sucked her clit between his lips and began drubbing it with his tongue, and Caitlin went nuts!
"OOOOOOOWWWWEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" she wailed, arching her back and picking Howard right up as the shockwaves he ignited rolled through her. Howard hung on, maintaining his lip-lock while she undulated like a bucking bronco, wailing, "OGOD! OGOD! OGOD! OOOOHHHH!!!!" This went on for about fifteen seconds before Caitlin started frantically scrabbling to get Howard away from her burning clitoris, something Howard did only after a fight. "Oh... MY...GOD!!!" she panted, "That was..." Words failed her.
Howard offered a return grin, but it was strained. "I, uh, think it worked for me, too..."
Caitlin re-focused on the penis dangling above her head. "Oh, yeah! Well, turn it around, Dear, and let's go for it!"
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