It was pure action in her mind's eye: she had her thigh pushing against John's cock with such pressure, that she began to think that his stem was penetrating her skin. The executive buried his face into her breast then licked, then licked the skin just above her nipple. Ron could feel her swollen nipples craving for man handling, and she felt the ecstasy of his tongue warming and seething her cherries. John managed to move his body (turning it completely around) so that he was now on the bottom, his long and lean form dominating the upholstery, gradually lubricating it with his rank yet manly sweat. The stud was able to position his lovely atop his form – which he negotiated by holding onto her buns and pressing her, almost wrenching her against his groin section. He cupped his fingers then pushed his pinky on Ron's dark, steamy underside, gradually moving forward until he reached her anus (was he unaware if he was coming or going?). But Veronica knew he was intentional in his obscene movement, and was even a little surprised at the pleasure he evoked in exploring her asshole. Pushing his finger up from the long slit between her buns, he settled in the triangular spot just above the crevice and pressed on her until Veronica almost laughed. Wrenching Veronica about on her side, then turning her over completely, the young woman lay with her ass perfectly positioned over John's cock. She could feel his stem settle into her crack. She could sense his heaving chest push against her own. She could sense his distended, huge balls push against her thigh, the prickly thin skin sending shivers straight through her spine and into her nipples.
Veronica kept finger fucking herself, kept orchestrating the pattern of her encounter. There was even dialogue: "Baby, you're the greatest. I want you all over all of your fucking gorgeous body."
"Do it, fuck me all the way."
"Ooh, yes, yes!" Veronica could see his eyes vividly, two fire balls. It was close now, dangerously so.
The young woman was writhing off her couch, falling onto the rug. Once again she could see her form in the mirror and before continuing her reverie, she spread her legs in order to view her pulsing pussy. She was a raggle, and knew it, an eye full of steamy, woman meat who could make any male lose his cool. Just look at that, she said to herself, narrowing her eyes, breathing even deeper – positively excited by the sight of her inner womanhood. Veronica thought fleetingly of literature – after all, she was an English major at Sarah Lawrence – of Fitzgerald's convoluted love affairs, of Hemingway's hunts and the desperation of Capote's characters in their sadistic and sexual longings. But when she looked right into the heart of that pussy, she knew that it all boiled down to that, the least common denominator, male and female meat.
"Cuntless women" – hah, thought Veronica, that can't be this college bitch. Veronica was captivated by her own body, by the convolutions of her steamy cunt, the folds of skin and the moist, glistening tissue. (We might add that as Veronica was known for her fantastic ass, and gigantic mammaries, her reputation had also risen in certain corporate circles for having exceptional vaginal lock powers. Her ability to open up, and then put on the steam – as some put it, the "clamp" – was almost uncanny.)
Just then the saucy lady realized she'd been neglecting her essential accessory, the piece of equipment which guaranteed her liberation from male domination. It lay on the table, virginal in status, yet expectant in condition. The broad turned the power switch then touched the top of the mechanism and was delighted with the resulting tingle. But even better than that was the fact that she could feel heat, quantums distinctly emanating from that phallic, as Ingmar B. would say, symbolska. Veronica put it against her heaving bosom, and loved it. Then she pressed it straight into her nipple. Dare she press further? She did. As a matter of fact, Veronica pressed the electric dick into her until the blood began to take its leave, and she began to feel pleasure degenerate into pain. She pressed harder, until she couldn't stand it, and only then did she have mercy and allow her breasts to take their original form.
When Veronica pushed the vibrator downward, below her pubic hair (it looked like some monstrous war machine plowing through guerrilla terrain as it parted her bushes) she could not help but think of John's magnificent cock. She was able to bring to mind that magnificent penetration. John hadn't been at all handicapped by the cramped quarters, spreading out and going to town as if in the most expansive of double, queen or king beds. After what seemed like an eternity of tit sucking, he finally released his grasp and lowered his head to her midsection, blazing a trail to the south with his probing fingers. Sniffing and inhaling extremely deeply, John the Con moved his nose through the pubics, obviously basking in the erotic itch created therein. Veronica remembered the ultimate pleasure of his hot, wet tongue, splitting apart her labia and entering the depths of her insides. As a bird flies, so did our Veronica, inhaling with total passion, exhaling in preparation for greater highs: sexual highs. As John pushed into her and continued to eat, he moved his hands upward until he was again atop her mountainous melons, until he was pressing against them which did nothing if not heighten her pleasure.
The girl was on the floor again, in the warmth of her studio apartment, with dildo in hand, yet she might as well have been in that car on that rainy eve, for that was where her mind (and cunt) was at. She couldn't forget that John had driven her mad with desire, especially by means of his genius for holding her off, making her ache for the real heavy action. After sucking her cunt, the man put his key in the ignition. "Where are you going?" our friend asked. The man answered they were in need of stimulation and proceeded to Pacific Grove, to a place with the most awesome view in the entire Cisco area. Without further exchange of words, he pushed Veronica almost against the window pane. John, holding his cock proudly upward, was able to penetrate in this manner, from the rear. (It had been a first for Veronica – she'd never even imagined a guy could get it that way.)
"One, two, three…" John said, "And here she goes!" – with that the stud shot deep within her, and even managed before shooting his wad to pull his cock out and cover her buns with his precious night juice.
Veronica lay in her apartment, spent but unspent, satiated but hot as hell, half cocked in the feminine sense. Well, not bad, she thought, I've got the throttle in hold this time, simple as that. The cock's completely under my control and I can drive myself as high, as far and as long as my little heart desires. Vern rose and looked in the mirror. She could tell she'd been through something. A few of her pubic hairs were pasted against her thighs. Several drops of sweat had formed in key places – her upper lip, under her breasts, between her legs just under the cunt.
The woman pushed her body against the mirror until her protuberances touched, forming a hot vision as if two nymphs were preparing to make it. Two huge nipples pulsing against each other; two palms stretching out making contact; and then, two ominous looking white dicks moving toward each other. Vern had to smile a little as she watched the vibrators coming near and then touch. Well now, you two look like you're quite the friends, quite the friend. But my story's not over, not just yet. Vern knew then that what she really wanted, what would make it all worthwhile was nothing less than a reenactment of her entire recent love life, from John on the entire macho repertoire. But this time there'd be a twist: a happy ending.