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His comments were made up of "yeses" and "Oh Gods" and
incoherent sounds; all very positive.
Marsha said nothing of course, her mouth being very
cock-full. But she slurped and sucked and swallowed,
just like they did on the porno movies he watched. But
this was his cock and his very own cocksucker. Paul
was in a very special heaven.
She took it slow and easy. After two comings Paul was
easier to control. Earlier he’d have gushed like a
fountain within seconds of her mouth engulfing him.
Now he was as horny as ever but able to savour
Marsha’s efforts.
It was wonderful. She sucked, hollow-cheeked, up the
length of him until he almost slipped out. After a
teasing pause she slid down him again, down and down
until her lips reached her curled fingers. No deep
throating, no gagging, just a slow and steady, suck
and slide. Almost imperceptibly his arousal grew, his
balls seemed to buzz with energy and he knew he could
come again. He lay back in the cushions and watched
this gorgeous woman seem to devour him. His cock
glistened with her saliva, the tracery of veins, blue
and purple stood out on his shaft.
Would she let him come in her mouth? Would she swallow
his come? Somehow he knew she’d do anything and
everything to and with his cock if it took her fancy.
He wanted to grab her hair and fuck her face. He
wanted to jam her head down on him, force himself down
her throat. He didn’t, he couldn’t. He didn’t know why
but somehow it would demean him and disgust her. So he
just let her suck at him and work her magic on his
swollen, desperate cock.
Then, with an awful suddenness, his climax took hold
in the very pit of his groin and he knew he must come.
Marsha knew it too, it seemed. Her mouth was gone and
her fist squeezed his cock at its base with a painful
fierceness. His muscles clenched and squeezed, his
come seem about to boil out of him. But it didn’t,
somehow she’d choked him off. When she finally eased
her grip, one drool of his come poured gently out of
his cock-tip. Marsha lapped it up with a dainty pink
tongue. She looked him in the eye and swallowed.
Sweat broke out on Paul’s forehead and he stared at
her hand and the cock it encircled.
"Nearly," she said. "You taste good by the way."
She played gently with his cock and asked, "Want to
try that again?"
They did try it again. Twice more and each time she
managed the same trick; drawing him and his cock to
the brink and somehow stopping him from happening.
Twice more the trickle. Twice more her tongue sampled
him.
Paul felt helpless in this woman’s mouth and hands.
She was playing with him. He was loving it but the
torment was beyond belief.
She sat up and moved to his right and leaned forward
to rest her elbows on the sofa. Her ass was up and
out, two beautiful hemispheres.
"Now fuck me Paul, just come around behind me and fuck
me the way you’ve wanted to all afternoon. Fuck me
doggy style."
Stunned as much by the crudity of her words as by the
sudden arrival of what he most wanted, he struggled to
get up. He practically fell when he stood, his legs
were wobbly and he felt unsteady. She’d drained him of
energy it seemed.
The idea of fucking her to death now seemed a more
difficult proposition.
"Hurry Paul," she said her voice urgent, "I need that
lovely cock."
Paul got to his knees behind her. He was again unsure
of himself now the moment had arrived.
She was so exposed. Her out-thrust ass so naked. Her
anus peeped at him from between the soft-looking
swells of her buttocks. Her pussy was there too, He
always thought of the vagina as being at the front but
now it seemed to be at the back, where her pubic curls
all but hid her.
"Paul!"
He edged forward on his knees and bent his erection
down, trying to aim it.
Her hand appeared between her thighs and grabbed his
cock and guided it and him forward. He felt himself
being positioned. She thrust herself back at him.
Paul’s virginity was gone; gone in a hot, almost
sucking moment. By instinct he thrust too and his cock
speared up deep inside Marsha.
"Oh God! Yes! Sweet Jesus, yes," her words rushed out
of her in one breath.
They both seemed to freeze in that instant with Paul
buried deep, deep in her.
"I’ve wanted your cock ever since I saw you in the
store today," Marsha told him.
"It feels so good, so hot, so, so…," he had no words.
"Doesn’t it?" said Marsha.
"Oh God!" he exclaimed as she clenched the walls of
her vagina seemed to suck him.
"No, Paul, now fuck me, hard as you like, hard as you
can."
Fuck her he did. Hard as he could, hard as he wanted.
Perhaps nearly as hard as she wanted. When his climax
neared he stopped and waited; Paul had learned that
afternoon.
She came before he did, violently and loud. Paul
crouched over her while she came, his hands squeezing
her lovely breasts, thumbs and forefingers pinching
and pulling at her nipples. Her orgasm seemed to roll
on and on, her pussy kept trying to pull his cock into
her.
Afterwards she cried into the sofa’s cushion. He asked
if she was all right and she said she’d never felt
better. "Now do me some more."
Paul sat up again and grabbed at her waist, his
fingers digging into her softness, finding her
hipbones. He began to fuck her again, staring down
watching his cock going in and out of her. Watching
the brown pucker of her anus. Seeing the white-blonde,
downy hairs in the valley of her spine. Wanting to
fuck her forever.
His chest heaved; he heard his breathing, felt the
hammer of his heart and slammed mercilessly against
the softness of her ass. Slamming, slamming, fucking,
fucking, determined to make her beg him to stop.
But Marsha didn’t beg for mercy she just urged him on.
Asked for more, more cock, harder cock.
At last his body surrendered, his balls tightened, an
awful contraction happened deep inside him and he was
coming. Coming and coming, a desperate attempt to
empty his entire self into her cunt.
Spent at last he lay over her. His trembling hands
found and cupped her pendulous breasts. He heard her
crying again and knew it was all right. He could have
cried himself he felt so happy.
"I’m still alive," she murmured.
"What?"
"You didn’t fuck me to death did you?" There was
laughter in her voice.
"I guess not." Paul’s lungs and heart were back near
to normal but he knew he was changed.
They stood by her front door. Paul was dressed but
Marsha was still in only her stockings. She was aware
of a slow trickle down the inside of her left thigh.
She went up on tiptoe and kissed him.
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," disbelief was in his voice. She wanted
more? Maybe after he’d slept. He needed sleep now.
"I’d like that." He knew he’d like it but right now he
needed to rest a while.
"We could do other things," she said.
He wondered what other things there were; they’d far
exceeded the span of his knowledge that afternoon.
"Mind you, the three for one rule would no longer
apply."
"It wouldn’t?" He’d thought it too much for her.
"No, you’ve passed your beginner’s course now." She
lifted her right breast with her hand and gave the
nipples a slow sucking kiss. Paul’s cock stirred at
the sight.
She released the nipple. "I’ve always thought five for
one about right."
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