"I've got you all over me," he said after a few minutes. "Perhaps I should go wash up."
"No, don't! Please don't reject me that way!" She wanted him to reek of her jism when his wife arrived. "Don't you like the taste and smell of me all over you?"
"Yes, yes, yes! Darling little Marcy. Always so aloof and cold before, and now so willing and available."
"Not to mention eager," she giggled, and suddenly slid down into his lap facing him. She searched for his cock with her cunt, rubbing her wet slit along its length. "Wouldn't you like to put that in me, Mr. Price?"
He sucked in his breath. "You know I would! Can't you feel how it throbs for you! I want to put it in you so far it'll come out the top of your head!"
"Then do it!" she whispered, raising up a little and pushing at his pants to get them out of the way.
"Marcy, I never dreamed you could be this way," he said in wonder. "So giving… so free… so lusting!"
"I couldn't be before, Mr. Price," she said. "I'm entirely different now. In just a few days I've been released from a lifetime of inhibition and repression. The inner woman has been aroused and turned loose to do as she pleases. Marcy of the compressed lips, the closed thighs, and the virginal cunt has been forcibly removed. And there underneath, where she was all the time, I discovered this other Marcy. Marcy, the primal woman, whose reason for existence is a cunt that can be filled with cock, and a mouth that can serve man or woman."
"Marcy, you almost shock me!" Mr. Price laughed shakily. "And I always thought I was such a swinger."
"If you are, then swing that prick into me," she said, rubbing along the length of his maleness.
"Oh darling Marcy, you're so adorable! So delicious! What you're doing for me today is beyond price!" His eyes were bright and shining as he looked at her. "Forget the twenty thousand dollars, darling. I'll pay it back for you, and no one will ever know the difference."
"No – no!" Marcy protested. "I'm doing this for you, Mr. Price! It would be ruined if you gave me anything for it. I'm doing it for pure lust, and money would spoil it. Don't you understand?"
He looked puzzled. "I guess so, but…"
She wriggled her bottom and rearranged her thighs slightly, then let her open cunt sink down on his enflamed weapon. The wonderful sense of fullness made her senses swim, and when her golden cunt hair mixed with his wiry gray hair and her buttocks came to rest on his balls, she shivered with ecstasy.
"Do you understand now?" she asked softly, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders as she rode his manly shaft.
"Yes, Marcy, I understand," he said, thrusting up into her with such force that he almost sent her flying off the rod that kept her pinioned to his lap.
"Then fuck me, Mr. Price darling! Fuck me long and hard!"
He plowed deeply into her again. "Oh God, Marcy, you're so tight! Just like the virgin I always thought you were!"
"I was a virgin," she said. "It was a sickness I had to get over. Now my cunt is like a singing flame, searching for fresh man meat to feed it. Before it was a barren desert, bleak with superstition and fear, a joyless monument to a puritanical upbringing and a soul that was dead."
"Why, Marcy, that's almost like poetry."
"Fucking is poetry, Mr. Price. It is also music and art. There is nothing on the face of the earth to equal it, nothing that can take its place."
Her tight wet flesh gripped him, her hyper-sensitive inner cunt walls grasping every line and curve of the cock upon which she was impaled. It sensed the rounded knob on the end, and the thick veins along the sides that gave it life. She was so carried away in her lustful imaginings that she thought she could feel the tiny slit in the tip, and even the color of it the purplish knob, the rusty reds and browns of the shaft, and the darker brown of the sacs at its base. The pleasure of the friction of sensitive flesh against sensitive flesh, the buildup of tension in the delicate inner walls of her vagina, the tiny nerve endings in her clitoris that sent electric shocks of keenest sensation to her brain: all combined to convince her all over again of the inestimable value of her new-found voluptuousness.
"I could sit here on that driving spear forever," she whispered. "I could let you stab me with it until I was nothing but a sieve. I could fuck and fuck and fuck."
She rocked on him and rolled her hips, feeling the hard flesh twirl inside her. Tightening her thighs, she concentrated on flexing and releasing her internal muscles as she rode up and down his throbbing organ.
"Marcy, how could you have learned so much in such a short time? You know more about gripping a cock with your cunt than any whore or call girl I've ever been with. Innocent little Marcy? Who taught you?"
"Dr. Villiers. Three days with him and any woman can be my equal," she said modestly. But Dr. Villiers had said she was something special, different from other women. The primal urge in her might not be so strong in everyone, although there was always the ache for lust, the craving to engage in a multitude of sexual experiences. Her desire to fuck and be fucked, suck and be sucked, eat and be eaten was a driving, living force that was irresistible, now that it had been released.
Marcy pressed her tiny clit hard against Price's shaft while she rolled her cunt in circles around his manhood. Harder and harder, faster and faster, round and round and round.
"Drive into me! Stab me! Break me in half!" she yelled, kicking her legs outward and then slamming her thighs back against his legs, pounding her lust-crazed cunt against his pulsing loins, feeling the head of his prick thudding into the farthest depths of her pussy.
She stared into his eyes as she drew upward, almost letting him escape. He got the message, and reared up hard just as she slammed down with all her might. They met halfway, and the brutal thrust of his member against the thin wall at her cunt bottom would have frightened her if she hadn't already learned how resilient it was.
"I think I'm going to cum!" Marcy said, her voice rising on each word. "I am! I can feel the pleasure shooting along, my veins, I can feel that fucking cock of yours swelling and ramming and beating inside me. You're going to make me cum!"
Price grunted, and they both exploded violently. She screeched with the joy of being so thoroughly used. Her perfumed and spicy cunt juice joined his steamy semen deep inside her, and the combined man-girl cum ran out over both of them.
Marcy collapsed with her head on Price's shoulder, her arms draped around him, her sleek thighs resting on either side of him. His shaft was still spouting inside her, she could feel it dribbling into the already full puddle. It stirred her to move a little, to initiate a sucking, drinking movement with her cunt that was intended to wring every last drop from his organ.
"Wonderful… most wonderful… nothing like it… no woman anywhere… not thousand dollar Paris whore I once had… not the Hollywood sex bomb who made her pocket money fucking any guy with a hundred dollar bill in his hand. None can touch you, Marcy – sweet Marcy!"
"Of course they can't," she said, rocking gently on his softening prick.
"But how can such an innocent child outdo women like that?"
"They didn't have the advantages I had," Marcy said, flexing her inner muscles to capture the last few drops of his jism and his soul along with it.
"Advantages?"
"Yes. They didn't go through the virgin experiment," Marcy said. "They didn't have Dr. Villiers' expert treatments."
"Dr. Villiers? Who is he?"
"I don't know," she said, "but he's the one who taught me to milk a man, to draw the last drop of cream from his cock and then get him going again."
"Again? Oh no, Marcy. I'm fifty. Maybe I could have once, but not now."
"Wait – just wait," she said, rubbing the still enflamed lips of her cunt over his now limp manhood, sliding down a little to grip his balls and squeeze.