Since a woman does not grow jealous in a fantasy of her own making, Veronica was satisfied to let the couple go at it. "Well," said Maggie, "you sure do take your time. You realize that Buck's been coming on to your date for quite a while."
"Of course," John lied, "you know how these over-sexed secretarial types are… oh, but then again, I guess you don't."
Maggie leaned forward and kissed the man on the lips, which got him going immediately, got him into a state of sheer desire. "You are one nice girl," he added.
So complimented, Maggie slowly lowered her white top, exposing her large, magnificent tits. "Well, well, well, those are a pair, a real sight."
"I'm glad you like them. Why don't you get acquainted."
John pushed his face into the tits and lathed them in his own saliva, basking in the fullness, in the roundness, in the utter beauty of the whiteness of the skin.
He looked closely and observed that her nipples were exceptionally large, like fantastic red buttons, all ready and erect, begging him to lower his head and dig in as if in some sort of sexual and orgiastic feast. He kissed them, one at a time, together, then pushed the spheres in each direction, delighting in the action and in the slightly paltry color afforded by the moonlight, a rare and exotic touch. In addition, the wind on his back – raising bumps as it may – added another layer of excitement to the texture of the evening.
"What if they should return?" he asked conservatively.
"So what?"
"So what?" He paused, then continued, "You know, I think you're right. Here they've gone off for some hairy canary and I'm scary, sitting here wondering if I'm sinning. Boy, I've been a little twisted, but my little Maggie, you're helping me to see the light."
Just then he pushed his face right into her tits and began to kiss the entire area, passionately, most fervidly. In another instant the duet would have been enlocked in love had not Maggie slowed the pace slightly in order to wallow in the fun of foreplay.
He decided to get into the bag, but Maggie had other plans, quickly exiting hers and walking to a large exposed rock. She simply lay back against it, looking like a wild animal, ready to unleash her passions.
John quickly approached and was almost frightened by the look of total and complete abandon in her eyes, the look of a tigress, ready to love and ready to pounce. He enlocked her lips with his own, pawing her up the front, her tits and nipples, down below to her stomach. Her nostrils flared like a sex Goddess and her hips began to undulate, begging him to enter, inviting him to taste her insides. Then they heard some rustling, and realized it must be Buck and Veronica returning, but then they lowered their heads and the sound was gone for an instant. That was the way Vern liked to plan her fantasies, mysterious and lively, with the touch of the unknown and the dangerous lurking just behind, whether it be from man, beast, or nature.
What could it be, thought John? Are there bears up these parts, or other large game.
Reading his mind, Maggie whispered, "Don't worry, I can tell by the sound that those are human feet, so it looks like our friends are either returning from their jaunt or searching out some new locale. Actually, I think they're just rearranging themselves."
How right Maggie was on that score.
"Look," John said, overcome with passion, "I think, the hell with it."
Maggie began to play hard to get, as many a woman does when she knows that she has the man in the bag, and ran over toward the pond, as if she was aware where her friend Buck had been. Stripping on the way, she soon ran through the underbrush nude, except for a tiny strip across her loin miraculously held on by the force of the wind. As soon as she reached the water she took this away, also, and jumped in head first without hesitation, emerging unscathed but cold and tingling. John couldn't wait to touch the cold flesh, which he soon did, enveloping the girl in his arms, his big naked shoulders going half way around her naked body. He could feel the cold water between them warm, the slightly purple tinge to her lips melt into a crimson, and her face flush once again in the sexually healthy manner it had in the sleeping bag.
"You live dangerously, little girl," he said, then began to place his fingers right inside of her cunt, slowly at first, then with greater velocity, until he realized that he'd just about driven the girl to her first big "O" when he removed his fingers.
"Scud-lee-dud," she quipped, "taken' me almost all the way, then retreating, what is this?"
"Two can play hard to get, you know."
Suddenly, the girl took his cock between her fingers, then said, "In a manner of speaking – as we say in these parts – now I've got you by the balls." Admiring her spirit, John obeyed the orders to continue his finger fuck, which he did with spirit and gusto until he could sense she was just about at the "O". She began to groan out, "Oooh, ah," the faster became her breathing until her entire body began to go in circular motion, her feet positioned firm on the ground then standing on tip toes, on the ground again, and repeating the cycle.
As a madman runs from the asylum, as a flock of geese flies from the north in winter, so this man's cock knew its destination, almost as if it had a mind of its own.
"I'm going to fuck you Maggie, like you've never been fucked in your entire fucking life." With that he rudely penetrated, absolutely clawing at the girl's back until his nail marks turned into red streaks. But she didn't stop him, didn't stop him a bit as he fucked. In mid-fuck, he pulled out his schlong and demanded she suck it, a request she honored almost before he could ask.
Down she went, quickly and surely, her nose first making contact, the proboscis covered in jism, her nostrils flaring into the side of his fat meat, driving him, making him wild. "Baby, you know how to do it, you really know how to get to me!"
"Happy to oblige," she said coyly, with class and distinction.
Veronica had to pause in her fantasy. Even she could hardly believe how elaborate her theme had gotten, how detailed she was able to picture sexual happenings, from plot and character, to detail of body to dialogue. She'd never realized how her imagination could work once fueled by that electric dildo, the perfect creative accessory. And it was all hers, just she and the machine until the next afternoon.
The woman went into the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror. Not a classically beautiful face, but a sensual face, a face which demanded to go beyond what she knew previously, to constantly grow in body awareness, to take in more and more cock and know how to take advantage of a man's every move. Her lips were parted and she could just see inside into her sexy red opening. She had fine, high cheek-bones and large, wide eyes, which she made-up to maximize the effect, with black lines which drew endless compliments.
She admired the way she barely had a line on her entire face, nothing which was out of place. She was cute, maybe even beautiful, yet she was discovering the fun of doing a solo, the real girl, she thought, then paused… hand made… hand maid… She laughed at the pun, but was diverted by another angle of her face. She could see from this profile that she had an exceptionally strong chin, a chin which would hold up well over the years and retain her beauty, fighting a cruel and unremitting gravitation force. So there was plenty of time for men, which meant there was plenty of time for herself. And how did the saying go: one must take care of oneself first.
So she returned to her little country scene, the image of John finger fucking his lady then pushing his long, delightful schlong all the way into her as he pushed her body against the hard, sterile rock. "Fuck me all the way," she moaned as she clutched at his fat, distended balls.