And Tod, hearing the words, felt the dam gates slowly opening within him. He slithered his strong, sinewy hands under the wildly pumping cheeks of her ass and cupped them tightly… pulling them toward him for greater access to her open and pleading cunt. He drove into her with all his strength… wanting to give her everything he had; he could feel the smooth, hot flesh of her tight, almost unusual massaging and sucking away at his expanding, explosive cock. He fucked into her, ramming every last inch of his huge cudgel into the hot willing hole down between her legs. A cry started within her, and at first it sounded like the low moan of the Arctic winds blowing high in the heavens; the sound grew in intensity until it was the shriek of a typhoon leveling everything before it.
“AIIIIEEEEEEEE… I’m CUMMIING!” She screamed, and it was the cry of a hawk… and eagle… diving from great heights. Her smoky eyes stared, unseeing, at things beyond both of them. Her ass waved in wild abandonment from side to side, screwing her cunt up and down crazily on his white pistoning rod.
Sylvia’s wildly thrashing body triggered his own climax. He could feel the velvet explosion beginning somewhere around the spine. It spread rapidly to his balls. Tod increased the intensity of his strokes so that his scrotum swung like an iron wrecking ball against the trembling walls of her buttocks.
Then he was there; its intensity frightened him for a moment, but he let everything go. Her arms had him in a deathlike grip, but he was still able to gasp into her open mouth, “I’m cumming…”
Her words were almost incomprehensible when she panted, “Cum in me… cum… dar-leee-nng.”
Tod heard the whimpering moan from her and her knees flexing and unflexing powerfully back against his driving ass, as she sought to assist him. With a low moan of ecstasy, he exploded inside her, and the white hot lava of his love erupted deep down inside the pulsating depths of her womb.
His cock continued to spurt and throb for almost two minutes, then it gradually stilled. Deep inside her, he could feel her muscles loosening, the uterine walls deflating, the cervix returning to its normal position, and the vaginal lips twitching like the lips of a slowly dying fish. He opened his eyes and looked down at the girl; she appeared to be at least ten years younger than her real age. A soft, wondering smile was etched on her lips: she looked happy, fulfilled. He smiled gently as he watched the even rise and fall of her beautiful breasts at repose. She was asleep… so soundly asleep that she didn’t even stir when he slowly withdrew his deflated penis. It came out with a soft hissing sound and with the stopper removed, a torrent of white, expended sperm began to flow like a river out of her open cunt.
Tod pulled the bedspread over her perspiration streaked body. Then, nude, he walked toward the window overlooking the yacht club and picked up his binoculars. Sunset was coming to the basin. In the fading light he could see three people on the deck of the Jolly Rogue. Two of them he recognized as Liz and Ed Hunt. The third one was a tall brunette clad in an extremely small bikini that accentuated, rather than hid, her body. She looked very good indeed. Even as he watched, he saw Ed Hunt pat the girl’s ass in a very proprietary manner. The brunette threw back her head and laughed, then wantonly put her hand down the side front of Hunt’s bulging swim suit. Liz Hunt, standing right alongside them, seemed amused at their antics. She turned as a fourth figure obviously the brunette’s husband came on deck. Sue pointed toward the man and woman fondling each other and made a remark which caused him to double over in glee.
“Eight bells and all’s well,” Tod said softly. “Fun and games time on the old Jolly Rogue’.”
Behind him, he heard Sylvia stir on the bed. One lovely golden arm had come out from beneath the bedspread, and one delicious mound of breast flesh with its inviting little nipple was uncovered. She was still asleep and apparently dreaming now, for there was a tender smile on her face as her lips opened partially arid she whispered, “Tod… darling.”
He watched her. She had surprised hell out of him, but his biggest surprise had come with his own emotions. It was one thing to want to fuck a woman, quite another to feel a need to protect her and to want to share things with her.
When he turned his attention back to the Jolly Rogue, Liz Hunt… a lewd expression on her face was spread-eagled on the deck and being finger-fucked by the man. The brunette and Ed Hunt had disappeared below decks. The only evidence that they had ever been on deck was a scanty blue handkerchief lying next to the galley door… the bottom part of the girl’s bikini.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Anchor Bay Restaurant sits out near the end of the Santa Barbara wharf, most of it hangs out like an aircraft carrier’s forward deck over the water. The view is of the Yacht Club and the opening to the breakwater. If the Table Captain thinks you look important enough and you’re prepared to wait a bit after tipping, you get a window table where you can watch the lights dancing across the water, the sun setting behind the blue-gray shrouded Channel Islands, and at certain times of the year… the moon rising like a ripe pumpkin over the Santa Ynez mountains.
Friday night is the worst evening to get reservations; Saturdays are almost as bad. To walk in on one of these nights with no reservations at all is tantamount to dropping in unexpectedly for a chat, tea and tiffin with the Pope.
Shelton and Sylvia arrived without reservations. One look at Tod’s expensive suit and Sylvia’s obviously original Pucci silk crepe mini, and the Table Captain put a small “w” in front of Shelton’s name. A ten dollar bill surreptitiously pressed into his hand resulted in a large black asterisk following the name… this denoting a big spender. They were seated within three minutes… at a table that had been set only moments before for a party of six who had been waiting for almost two hours in the bar and were rapidly reaching a state of non compos mentis.
The Tanqueray arrived in a frosted glass. The waiter asked, “Will there be anything else at the moment, sir?”
“Thank you, no.”
Then Tod was left alone with Sylvia, with only the soft hum of other conversations in the background. She looked very female, very beautiful, he thought and then told her so. She smiled softly in answer. Her hair looked like a golden waterfall frozen in mid-flight. Her face seemed softer, her lips fuller, her eyes a deeper haze. There was just the faintest suggestion of color high on each of her lovely cheekbones. That, he was pretty sure, had come from his beard stubble during their second round of lovemaking after Sylvia had awakened. Her inner thighs would be the same color… for the same reason.
Sylvia, watching the candlelight dance on his face, thought he was the most handsome man she had ever known. She told him so; he grinned in reply. She really couldn’t get over how contented she was, how very secure and very complete she felt around him. She lifted her glass in a toast, “What shall we drink to?”
Tod pursed his lips, then shrugged his shoulders, “To drinking?”
“No, silly. To… to… “she closed her eyes, unable to force herself to say it. She wanted to say, “To us!” but that would sound possessive.
Tod saved her. “To the rest of the weekend. May it be as pleasurable as its beginning.”
She nodded, touched his glass, then drank. She sat back in her chair, completely relaxed, and let the sensations wash over her. Every single pore of her body was alive and singing. God, she felt so alive! She could spend the rest of her life just sitting here, feeling this way. How much of it was due to sex and how much of it due to being with Shelton, she couldn’t say. She was pretty sure, though, that they were inseparable. She had never come close to feeling this content with Bruce. Not once. Never!