"Yes, fuck me, fuck me."
Veronica was rolling around on her bed now, imagining this scene, aware that the real John would be there in the mere matter of an hour, but unable to stop herself. She was nearly insane with passion, but would not, could not gear herself down. All discipline, self prohibition, imprisonment, incarceration of her passions was gone, and the only thing left to do was to give in and go with it, ride with the wind and love the pure gratifications of unrestrained sexuality.
She wished no exculpation, no punition for her drives, but simply gratification of desire which can only be meant in the form of a fantastic orgasm.
She wanted her body to be tied in knots, literally stretched to the limit and then given complete satisfaction.
Her shape was especially desirous, the short of her back as straight as could be, the deviation at the small of her back a perfect rendered curve, a festoon, a downright parabola of form, the perfect form.
Her partner could barely hold himself back, caught up in the undulation of her movements and the sexiness of her roundness. He couldn't control himself anymore and pushed her on her own bed with a force which almost destroyed the mattress.
She looked up at his incredible frame just before he unloaded his weight on the bed, his sculptured face, the sharp outline of his face, the contour of his hips, cut out of a finely hewn steely material, his hew perfectly contoured, a structural perfection. The amorphous, slightly intangible nature of his attraction had to do with his overall beauty, the radiation of his masculinity, pure virile strength.
She looked up at his half-moon as he turned around, the hook and crook of his hip, the curl of his hair as the wind pressure pulled it off his forehead. His buns looked positively polished, and sleek, even glossy but most of her tough and hard. It was like he was macadamized, so was he composed in his terrific structure. He knew she admired his ass, and as a way of fulfilling her, he backed up into her face so that she could kiss him there, right on the buns, right on the seat of his manhood.
"Kiss them, baby, and feel them, and do anything your little heart desires." He knew that the first thing – according to all the best polls – that a woman looks at, notices when she sees a guy walking by, is his buns. Why he did not know, but the important point was it was true. He used his ass when he found this out, used it in the office, neatly walking by a woman, turning his back, removing his sport coat as to make it as visible as possible.
"Kiss baby, kiss."
He began to feel her hot lips, first touching and then with great pressure digging in to her skin. He liked that, having her go down with such assurance and clarity of motion and form. "What a broad, what a fucking broad you are!" he said, delighted. "You've got one ass."
"Better than having two, wouldn't you say?"
"Oh, no time for funny stuff."
It was quite a scene that she was able to compose, quite a fantasy and she didn't want it to end. Perhaps her desire for power made her enjoy calling all the shots and setting all the scenes, perhaps the fact that she was really nothing but an egotist, but whatever, she knew it was going to end soon, and as if out of a protest of this fact she continued her action stronger and harder than ever without easing one bit.
She felt like an equestrian, a tramp of sex, a globe-trotter over the entire surface of sensual experience, a nomad of sexuality. "Fuck me now, fuck me all over, fuck me inside my big healthy cunt." It was big and healthy, besides appearing well formed and juicy, her equipment was in peak operative condition, her juices flowing generously and spontaneous, her tissues will formed and pliable, able to adapt to any male challenge which would come her way (the thought of Buck i.e. carrot, proved that).
Then she had John push his pecker into her cunt slowly but with an assurance and a motion which she knew meant she was in for a fantastic situation, a terrific orgasm being built by the blocks of pumps and the girders of grinds.
"Harder, faster."
"Baby, I'm yours, I'm all yours."
She scratched at his back, creating marks, but he couldn't have cared less. She pushed her lips into his until they were almost crushed flat, but again he didn't care. She kicked up her legs and wrapped them around his back which would have knocked the wind out of a lesser man, but again he didn't care. It was all pure excitement, pure fuck pleasure.
Faster and harder, there didn't seem to be any end to it. It was the consummation of pressures and drives building for weeks. Sure, Buck was great with his fucking good times, his wild and natural abandon, the way he taught her in her mind to ignore any inhibitions taught by civilization and give in to animal instinct, and he knew how to do things no other man had ever attempted (the image of that hard rock was still on her mind) but regardless, he still didn't come up. Sure, Monty was all stud, too. And the women. She'd never tasted what excited men so about female tit, but now she knew, the softness, round contour and especially the nipple which erected and seemed like the source of all plea sure. She knew all of that was there. But John held the attraction of being flesh and blood, a man she'd really known, and therefore knew his potentialities, which were not being met.
Now she could work with a given, take something which was known, improve and expand upon it until it became a real piece of perfection.
"Fuck me," she continued, and he pushed in deeper, until it felt she could not possible accommodate another piece of him, but just at that point, he managed to move against her even further.
"Oh yes."
"Baby, I'm really fucking now."
"Fuck all the way."
"All the way baby."
He was inside all the way – there was nothing more to be done, nothing but move the path to ecstasy, the entire route to pure passion.
"Fuck me!"
He was pushing against her just about as hard as possible, about as thoroughly as he possibly could, until she almost couldn't bear the pressure, but made the motion for him to ease off. She felt his balls push against her thighs in rhythmic patterns, with every thrust as they obeyed the laws of gravity and force.
"Fuck harder, all the way, with everything you've got."
"Baby, you asked for it, and you're going to get it."
Harder he pushed, kissing her violently, passionately all over the face, on her forehead, upward to her hairline as he pushed his hands through her hair, on her nose, touching her nostrils with his tongue, on her high cheeks, wetting them with his spittle. He kissed her lips, opening them with his tongue so that he could get at her beautiful insides, merging his spit with her saliva, until he knew that she was his for good.
"Fuck me, oh this is too much, too fucking much."
"Baby, kiss me harder."
She pressed her lips against his until she was sure that he could take nothing more.
Then to her utter amazement he said, "More, give me more."
Wishing to oblige, going with the stud all the way, she pressed harder against his lips and then moved upward – somehow, someway – until she was nearly even with the top of his head, until she could stick her superbly erect nipple in his mouth. He bit down on it with such enthusiasm that she could hardly believe that she didn't mind the pain – another advantage of pure fantasy – short of carrots, its all in the mind, psychosomatic.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck all the way."
He managed to slide his cock out because he was overcome with the desire to fuck her tits.
He looked at his cock. It was hot and sticky all right, covered with a few drops of sperm which escaped, but most of all her magnificent lubrication which made him shine and gooey.
Then he laid her on her back and she pushed up her knockers to make them ever more prominent. Somehow her nipples looked even larger than ever, two spheres, covering almost the entire front of her mammaries, perfectly centered with a teat looking as hard as a rock, ready for the heavy stuff.