Veronica knew this would be heavier than anything she'd known previously, so she wanted to draw it out as long as possible, a strategy which could work for or against her depending on the disposition of the man and the condition of the woman. In this case, all factors clicked in the right direction. Taking the aggressive, Ron pushed him up until he was fairly sitting on her thigh. In any case, she could now see the entire scene down there and fixed her gaze on the bottom of his shaft. He was pumping so hard now (didn't even seem to notice when his legs fell off the seat and he was kind of half standing on the rug) that his cock penetrated and then was released until it was half visible, before taking advantage of the return ticket, given the special excursion rates. She'd never seen a cock as thick or sure. His scrotum became visible given the various angles associated with his thrusts, a fine hunk of well spread thick skin. Veronica went on to do something she'd never negotiated, never cared to. She pulled and yanked at his buns and then slid her finger between them until she could feel his ass heat. She could feel the slightly harder textured skin inside the fold and delighted in the manner in which his buttocks tightened as she felt him up. She knew he didn't particularly go for her exploration. But what the hell.
"I'm fuckin' you now little lady. I'm fuckin' you!"
"Let it go, spurt inside now, spurt again."
She realized just then this would be the big two. One had come not more than minutes earlier. What was it with men, anyways? Some acted like they'd just climbed a mountain after coming, as if they needed a cooling out period – in the form of a cigarette, a trip to the john, a deep snooze, whatever. But this middle management type, this real John of hers, acted like he wanted more, and at that point, she guessed she might be able to squeeze another round out of him, a potch on the ass and he'd be hers for the night.
The closer John came to come, the more he dribbled from the mouth. "Baby, you're the greatest, the best around," he blurted in between a feel on the belly and a caress to the tit. John moved down and pushed her body to an angle until he felt just the proper angle and pressure against his man stem. "Yeah, baby, oh… ah!" he ejaculated. "Oh," he panted, "I knew the moment I saw you behind that slectric that you had this kind of stuff in you, the way you held yourself baby… class, real class." He didn't care that Veronica was hardly listening. He didn't care that it was raining, that the mud surrounding the wheels outside could trap them for the night and ruin the Thursday morning (supposedly back on the job). He didn't care at that point about the tell-tale lipstick on his face, or the nail marks on his back, or the assorted hickies from his buns to his blade. "FUCK ME BABY, FUCK ME ALL THE WAY!"
"Come on me."
"Wha…"
"That's right, come on my stomach." That's the way Ron wanted it. She didn't know why. She didn't care why.
"You sure you want it that way, Ron?"
"I rarely make a mistake when I'm feeling this way."
"Here it is." He took it out. "You like that, you like it, don't you?"
Ron looked at it, enraptured. She liked it.
"I like it."
"I know you like it."
She looked at the way a few drops of jism lay on the tip, like they escaped or something. She looked at how it was beyond red hot and was crimson hot, purple. Shhh… long, she thought, and almost giggled. But she stopped in time to see his final preparation heave, a massive constriction of his entire form, followed by a reddening about the face, an increase of blood pressure, all punctuated by a fantastic groan: "Agghh… oh, oh OH!"
He came like lightning, all over her stomach, in fantastic spurts which reached all the way up to her breasts. She'd never felt like such an animal and even in college days would have been turned off by her own behavior, but there was no stopping her at this point. Opening her mouth all the way, she pointed his penis her way and managed to score, right into the orifice. It was salty, and creamy, and viscous, and bitter all at the same time. She couldn't remember anything as tasty, anywhere and she was aware this was the kind of thing a man doesn't forget.
"I'm still on," she said.
"You bitch, what is this? I come twice and you act like you've had a date with a hairy banana. You must be kidding."
"No I'm not kidding." Then Vern doffed her panties from around her ankles, took her leave, and ran into the rain.
It was cold, but not that cold. Nevertheless, the stud yelled out, "You're crazy!"
A moment later they stood side by side, drenched to the bone, but their enthusiasm squelched not a bit.
Ron continued her dildo action on that Friday evening, warm and comfortable. It was almost better than the real thing, she thought as she began to slide the unit into her slit. Slowly she moved up her thighs, feeling the drops of woman juice which persisted along the white, smooth sides. Feeling the cold floor begin to dig into her buns, the woman rose and jiggled over to the rug. Ron could feel the rug dig into her as she prepared for her buscar. She fell downward, putting her hands in front of her mammoth breasts just in time to break her fall. Then she pulled her hands away, luxuriating in the feel of the rug strands adding to her jollity by pressing against nipple and tit. She even pushed herself into the rug, as if she were making love to it, as if it was alive and fucking.
Then Veronica turned around and sat on her ass as she looked at her reflection. "Ron, Vern, Veronica," she said loudly and distinctly, "you're one hell of a young broad." With that, she spread her legs into a "V" and then suddenly, violently, stuck that stick all the way inside. "Ooooh, ah," she moaned.
Gradually, she brought back the scene behind the car, the way John's hair was drenched and matted, the way her own dark locks stuck to her front, covering the tops of her breasts like a Haitian. She'd run from the stud; he didn't like that a bit.
"Come back here you bitch!"
"Come and get me!"
She'd run a good fifty yards before he overcame her. Ron looked back with amusement – his cock was still erect and slowed him and his distended balls were a little absurd jiggling like two sacks of potatoes. But it was a complete turn-on to Ron who immediately ran toward him and clasped her legs around his midsection, kissing him on the lips as hard as she could. They fell back into the mud and became filthy – two animals that they were. There was even a slight incline, and they tossed and turned all the way down, completely encasing their bodies in mud and slime.
"Bitch!" he yelled all the way down.
"You love it, you love it, company man!" He didn't have an answer to that one. "Now, now."
For at least the fifth time that day, John stuck his manhood as deeply inside her as possible. He could feel her vaginal walls parting to accommodate; he could feel her dynamite grasp (how she was able to tighten, especially in that atmosphere mystified him – talent, he guessed); he could feel her heave her breasts up almost into his face, a reminder of the full glory of her womanhood.
Drenched, but not cold; dirty, but not dampened in spirit, the couple copulated without a care or a thought that they might be observed or their energies could be excessive. "You're excessive," she told him as a bait. He ignored her, and if anything increased the strength of his thrusts.
Harder, faster he thrust into the woman, almost with a vengeance. Ron grasped at the weeds which surrounded her, the pivoted her hips in such a way that she was able to push upward until she succeeded in lifting John's form, a form whose apex was his manly ass. She tugged, pulled, yanked at his buns until the rains could pour into his asshole, then she pushed him flush against her own loins, hip against him, cemented. What followed was the greatest orgasm she'd had anywhere. Not even an orgy at school came up to this kind of satisfaction. It might have been the added excitement of the rain, the sensual drenching of the cold, dirty water which engulfed them mercilessly.