The cum faded. But almost instantly a new fever grew, rolling from her toes to her cunt, to her mouthful of horny prick, which twitched violently and plunged to her throat, telling her Phil's load was on the way.
It came in a hot gush, a fountain of thick cream spitting into her throat. Her renewed cum was so body-quaking that she was not quite aware of the cock's discharge until she had, moaning and switching her ass, burned over the peak of orgasm.
As she slid down the other side, still cumming hard, she drank his jizzum, swallowed and licked and gulped.
Long after the last drop had spat into her throat, she continued sucking Phil's luscious cock.
She was in bed, a small bed in a small upstairs room, to which Phil and Rita had shown her. She was smiling, half asleep, her every nerve melted to ooze, when Nick came in and sat on the edge of the bed. He still wore his baseball cap and shorts.
He said, "Well, partner, we're painting football wallpaper tomorrow, huh?"
She nodded, smiling, reached to his hairy thigh and caressed it.
He said, "I've also sketched a tennis design in case we work really fast."
She slipped her hand up his thigh to his crotch. She found his cock stony hard. She unzipped him and dug out the big, hot prick and fisted the spongy knob tipping it.
Nick said, "I thought you were all worn out, Susie."
"Well, I could just lie here and let you fuck me."
Grinning, he climbed out of his shorts, stuffed a pillow under Susie's ass, and mounted her, shoving his cock into her gaping wet tunnel of a cunt, to the hilt on the first poke, the big thing so hot, plugging her so fully, that she felt the first tremors of a cum when it butted the deepest pocket of her vagina.
She wound about him, clung as Nick's hips began jerking, and his shaft rode in and out of her.
Susie's first cum was so easy, a lazy vaginal sucking that built to long, wet surges, ending in a pop like a bubblegum bubble exploding, that she decided to just lay there and let things happen. The second orgasm was even easier. She grunted, squeezed her ass in, and let go.
She murmured in Nick's ear, "You'll leave me like a limp dishrag. I don't know if I could take a visit from Howard."
"He has Rita and Gwen climbing all over him. They'll milk him dry."
Good thing, Susie thought, cumming again, just lying there spraddle-legged, letting Nick drive it up her slobbering funnel of a fuckhole. Even when he began to roar she could not move except for the long internal pulls on his spitting organ. During it she fell asleep, smiling off into dreams. For hour after hour she felt Nick's cream shooting up her cunt.
She awoke in moonlight, feeling someone's weight depress the bed. Milky white, that small, slim girl with the pouty tits, Willa, smiling down at Susie and stroking her leg.
She said, "Susie, everybody's gone to sleep except me."
"Come sleep with me," Susie whispered, reaching out to her.
Willa's smile flashed and she came slithering down into Susie's arms. How lovely her soft titties felt, melting into Susie's! And her warm little belly, and the silky pussy hair brushing her thigh.
They kissed. Like that, tongues slowly vining about, Susie fell asleep again. In a dream she felt Willa stroking her clit. Wow, but it felt horny!
The girl was whispering, "I'd like to suck it."
The next thing Susie knew, a slippery tongue was sliding up her cunt and creamy soft lips tugged at her clit.
She pressed toward the odor of hot pussy, got a satiny thigh under her head, and nuzzled into moist pussy hair.
Like a dream, happily licking Willa's stiffened clit in the squashiness of its enclosing notch, she wiggled her hips a little and went right into a cum.
Was she dreaming?
She was too happy to care, because either a dream Willa or a real one was sucking her into another orgasm.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In daylight she found Willa in her arms. Oh yes, it had been real, and now she heard someone call that Willa was late for work. She arose with a start, gave Susie a hurried kiss, and rushed out.
By eight o'clock Susie had finished breakfast and with Gwen sat in lotus seat on the yoga platform, learning to breathe correctly as the first step up the levels of the discipline. She wanted to be taught control of the vaginal sphincter but Gwen said that would follow, first learn to sit comfortably and to breathe.
At eight-thirty she and Nick knelt over the wallpaper sketch, red helmets and golden footballs, white cleated shoes on a green gridiron. They began painting.
At ten-thirty, Nick said, "Let's take a fuck break."
Susie laughed. But Nick meant it. He dropped his shorts and while she still crouched over the design he mounted her from behind, stuck his meat right up her slippery hole.
On each of her orgasms the design seemed to swim around, detached shoes kicking footballs, helmets tumbling about the green gridirons.
After lunch she and Rita sipped a cup of Kashmir Karma while taking a jiji swing, finished their cums on the swing room couch, where they took a siesta.
That afternoon she and Nick finished the football design and started the tennis one. By five o'clock she was home, had tidied up Brian's breakfast dishes, bathed, and put on her wood-nymph tunic. She made a martini cocktail.
She was standing in the living room sipping it when Brian's car rolled in the drive. She was facing the mirror, saw that her chin was high, proud, her body firm but relaxed. She toyed with the crown of her bare white breast while waiting for Brian to come in.
She heard him in the kitchen. She turned that way sipping her drink. He appeared in the doorway.
He looked haggard, she thought. He had dark circles under his eyes, as though he had not slept well last night. He gazed flatly at her, scanning her costume.
He demanded, "Why are you wearing that?"
"Because I like it."
He scowled. "I hope nobody's seen you dressed that way!"
"But they have, six of them, and you make seven, no, eight, because I'm one or maybe I'm two, one the me that used to be Susie the door-mat. This Susie loves the wood-nymph tunic. Brian, how was your day? Did you fuck your secretary?"
Hearing that, he looked from her. A faint blush showed on his throat.
She said, "I don't mind your fucking her, Brian. It's just part of your job, showing what a big shot you are, so big that a secretary has to flop down on your couch with her legs apart. I have a job too, helping Nick paint wallpaper designs. He fucks me, too, but not because I have to let him, because I love it. Dig?"
"Susie, what is this? What has happened?"
"Why, Brian, I got fed up with your squareness, your all-American boy executive shit, a life-style in which I was only a convenience. Did you notice that my pussy is shaved?"
Swallowing hard, he nodded.
To make sure he did not miss it, Susie lifted her skirt, saying, "I'm proud of my cunt now, proud of my big clit, which by the way is not like a little boy's prick, it's not a prick, I don't pee through it or stick it into things. It's where my cums start, and it's there to be caressed and sucked. Which you've never done, but you will before you ever get your cock into my hole again."
"Susie, Susie, the way you talk!"
"Go mix yourself a drink. You look like you need it."
Groaning, he went into the kitchen.
Susie followed, stood in the doorway with a hip shot out, sipping her drink, watching him take ice cubes from the fridge and pour gin and vermouth into the shaker.
She asked, "What did Clayton think of my seducing his wife?"
He did not reply until his drink was made and he had taken a sip. Then he said, "Funny. It turned him on. And her. She wore him out. Five or six times during the night."
Susie smiled. "And you?"
"Christ, last night you slugged me twice, that lesbian stuff with Carla, then next door seeing that guy fucking you. I didn't sleep at all."