Just look at that." "I wish I could." "Oh, it's beautiful. I'm so big and hard and you're so wet and juicy...oh, your muscles are contracting around me and it feels so good..." "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me hard!" Our words deteriorate into wild noises and the world is nothing more to me than water pouring down and cock filling me up. I can't even move, the best I can do is stand there and receive. "Can I come?" he asks, pausing for a moment. "No. I want to watch. I want to watch you when you come, and I want you to watch me. How's that sound? That sound good?" "Oh, yes! Please." He thrusts once more. I grunt and push against him again. "Feels so good" I sigh. "Yeah, but stop or I'll come now, inside you."

"You wash me now." "Okay." He washes my shoulders and my arms and my breasts, then turns me around and starts on my back. "Nice," I say. He washes my rump, one hand soaping, the other exploring my pussy. He puts his middle finger in me while he washes my pubic hair. I moan and bend over a little. This gives him an idea, namely to replace his finger with his prick. I moan as it goes into me at an entirely different angle than I've ever felt it. I bend over further, holding on the the hot and cold dials for support. Water is running into my eyes, and when I open my mouth to make an appreciative groan, my mouth fills with it, but I don't care. It's good, so good, the shower beating on my back and his huge, hard cock pounding into my body. My legs are getting too wobbly to stand on, so he holds my hips and I lean back on him as he thrusts in and out of me. He moves slowly and gently for a time, then all of the sudden slams against my ass, driving his cock in me as deep as it can possibly go. The impact is so stunning it makes me yell. "I'm sorry!" he says. "For what?!" I pant. "Didn't I hurt you?" "Oh, God, no, it felt...uhn!" I grunt, thrusting back against him..."amazing!" "In that case..." he says. He does it again, then renews fucking me at a reasonable rate. "Oh, look at that" he says. "Look at my hard cock sliding in and out of your cunt.

I press myself against his fingers, and in distraction lose track of what I'm doing. "OWW!" he exclaims suddenly. I pull away. "What is it?" I ask in slight alarm. He turns around and pulls me back against him. "It's okay" he says. "You got a little rough with that fingernail." "Oh, baby, I'm sorry!" I've forgotten my fingernails before, once causing a slightly unpleasant sore in a delicate place. "I'll cut them off." "No, don't do that." "Well, I don't want to hurt you like that." "Just be more careful." I giggle."I'm sorry. It's sometimes hard to...I forget." "Don't cut them off. Then you wouldn't be able to scratch my back." "How about if I cut the nails off one hand so..." "That would look silly."

It is short and he is tall, and the contortions he goes through to soak his hair are amusing to watch. I don't understand why he doesn't simply bend his knees, but I decide not to bother suggesting that. Instead I get down on my knees and kiss his cock. I pay it some friendly attention for a few moments, then stand up again. "Okay. I wash you now." I pick up the bar of soap and run it over his chest, then change my mind. "No. Turn around. Your back first." He turns, and I begin by soaping his shoulders. I lather his long, pale back, then each of his arms. I soap his sides and his hips. One soapy hand casually kneads his ass, first just the plump flesh of his buttocks, then between them. "Yeah" he says. This is a sure-fire way to get to him, and I know it. Know it, and I love it. In our short time together, I have learned of many things that he can't resist, but this one is absolutely undeniable. "Oh, stick a finger in me" he requests. I'm getting used to this. I comply, and enjoy how hot it gets him. He reaches behind him and finds my tenderest spot.

“What a mess you are. Let’s get into the shower and
clean up a little. Then, it’s time to eat…I think we’ll need
the food to keep our energy up, don’t you?”

Her grin conveyed the clear message that it wouldn’t be
very long before we were back in her bedroom again, doing our
impression of mink in heat.

"Have a nice nap," I enquired? "Mmmm, yes," she purred.

She rolled off of me and stretched out on the bed. That sight was almost enough to bring my cock back to full attention. She looked down at the mess at my crotch and she began to laugh.

We must have dozed off in that position, because I woke up a while later with her still perched on top of me. My now shrunken cock had slipped out of her. My crotch was covered with the sticky combination of my cum, which had leaked from her, and her own sweet juices. A shower was in order, and I smiled at the thought of sharing a shower with Lisa.

I kissed her lightly on the lips, which caused her to come awake, her eyes slowly adjusting to the sight of me laying underneath her. She smiled, dreamily, and kissed me back.

Peformance anxiety? I'll say. I wanted so much for this scene to be perfect for her that I almost blew it. Luckily, I remembered the mental exercises which I had learned in therapy and quickly regained control of myself, all the while lightly caressing Lisa's flawless skin in a seemingly random way. Her body trembled slightly at my touch and a small moan escaped her lips as my hands reached the swell of her breasts and lingered there a moment lightly teasing the swollen buds which crowned them. She was moving her legs restlessly, pressing her thighs together. I caught a whiff of her excitement, the unmistakable odor of a female in heat. Like the smell of a hot meal to a starving man the scent drew me, but I resisted. It would be too easy to just spread her legs and dive in, satisfying my craving for pussy juice, and probably giving her a good climax as well, but I wanted this to be more than a few licks and a quick cum for both of us. This beautiful, intelligent, sexy woman had given me back my self respect and I wanted to make this special for her. I leaned over her, a hand on the bed on either side of her shoulders, and then I kissed her. The kiss started out as a very gentle oral caress of her lips, my tongue darting, teasing, probing. Gradually it deepened and I felt her arms encircle my back, her hands pulling me down until I was laying half on the bed and half on top of her. It was a long, deep, wet kiss -- the kind Kevin Costner talked about in "Bull Durham" -- and it lasted until we both had to come up for air.

She was an attractive divorcee, and a lot of fun to talk to. I
had no idea she would say “That sounds like a great idea!” when I
suggested she join my wife and me for an evening. And the lack of
resistance when I asked Jan about it didn’t really make me feel
too badly.

Here we were together in the hotel suite after an evening of din-
ing and dancing. Sally liked Tuborg Gold Tequila and Jan liked
Manhattans. I was all set for both. We sat and had a few drinks,
when Sally asked Jan to join her in a joint. She never had be-
fore, but was willing to try. I had just quit smoking a few years
before, so didn’t dare join them. (more…)

It was three o’clock in the afternoon and it had started to rain. Wet
leaves stuck to the glossy red trunk of the Jaguar, beaded with droplets,
and a hazy sun caught the rear window. Bobby opened the door and sat
down heavily, breathing in the leather. So that was it. The end of Arla. He
looked across the passenger seat to the lawn through the streaked window,
the lawn that led up to the house. The canopied street curved away before
him, its houses and hedges and willows and mimosa trees dripping and
green. He looked down. Suddenly he felt her legs around his head again
and his face pressed so deep into her pussy that it was stopped by her
pubic bone. Her fragrance was overwhelming, so close, so closeI

———————

Arla was sitting beside him as they raced along the 101. The ocean to
their right appeared and disappeared through the hills. The wind swirled
into the Jag. He shifted gears. She seemed pleased with how he did that.
They drove up through the hills and it got cooler. It started to rain, or was
it mist?
“Hey, we’re driving through a cloud” he said.
The car felt snug and strong, and he looked over and what he saw,
what he saw, was Arla slipped down below window level with her skirt
hoisted up and her legs wide open and her panties pulled to the side…
Smiling like the sun and moon, she seemed to fill all the space in the cabin.
But Bobby was cool. He kept driving, as the wind tore at her skirt
in the corner of his eye.

Another time he had overstayed his welcome–probably–on her sofa.
He knew how to do that, and he knew what Arla would do about it.
“Bobby,” she would say, “aren’t you tired yet?” There was a lamp to
either side of the sofa, making the light in the room ever so soft and the
quietness of the house ever so loud.
“Oh, I dunno,” said Bobby, “I feel kinda tense, you know.”
(more…)