She sighed with relief to find it empty. "Better lock the door," she suggested. She sniffed delicately. The smell of sweat, spunk and pussy-drool could have been cut with a knife. It was only twenty minutes since Lillian and I had walked out. "Somebody's been here," she said. Her nostrils quivered like a bloodhound's.
"Dave has a girl friend," I mentioned.
She crossed to the bed and examined the tumbled bed sheets. Her nose cringled. "Some women are so filthy! Look! You can see how she wiped herself!"
"Perhaps she was in a hurry."
"No decent girl behaves like that!" She stripped off the bed and remade it, changing the top sheet. "I'm not fastidious," she said. "But I do like to be clean."
"Cleanliness is a virtue," I said piously.
She eyed me thoughtfully. "It's been a long while, Mike," she said. It was a pleading invitation, as if she was saying. "Please, Mike. "Please screw me." My weakness is that I'm sensitive to other people's feelings, especially women's. She humbled her pride and asked me to screw her. I couldn't hurt her pride. Also, I had guilt feelings. I had given her the runaround. And my big, fat prick was twittering excitedly like an aviary of birds. I blundered. "I've missed you too, Carol," I said.
The next moment she was in my arms, rubbing her tits against my chest, one hand resting upon my bottom and the other in between us, grabbing the throbbing within my pants and caressing it.
"You're not too tired, are you, darling?" she coaxed, Her fingers frictioned my knob briskly.
Of course not, shouted my prick.
"Being with you excites me," I murmured. "Even though I'm exhausted, I want you,"
"I can tell," she said confidently. She increased her speed of prick-friction to make sure I didn't backslide, Without my being aware of it, we were drifting toward the bed.
Carol's a sexy piece of tail. There isn't anything that doesn't thrill her. She loves hot prick. But she loves it most of all in her mouth. She's a natural cock-sucker. That became increasingly evident during our love-making sessions. She favored her preference to a marked degree and our sessions ceased to be screwing sessions and became solely sucking sessions. Her cock-sucking obsession gave me no cause for complaint. A long, slow, suck-off can be more ecstatic than a straightforward screw. But the reason I'd given Carol the runaround was because of the way she sucked. It could have been just right for other pricks. But it was all wrong for my cock. It was lovely while she licked my Brownie, and sucked my balls. She tongue-washed my prick with a lusty joy that was exquisite stimulation. And when my knob was in her mouth, and she was swirling saliva around it, I couldn't fault her. But at the supreme moment, when I began to spurt, her timing went haywire. She brought me to climax as beautifully, if not better, than most girls. But her treatment of my prick during climax was all wrong. Orgasm is the fulfillment of all stimulation. The ecstasy of orgasm depends upon long, orgiastic spurtings. But that was where Carol failed. Her lust for spunk was the cause of her failure. She was too greedy. And she had lips and a mouth like a suction pump. She couldn't wait for me to spurt. She robbed me of the ecstasy of hot seed jetting up through my shaft and shooting gloriously into her mouth. Instead, she sucked monstrously, a fraction of a second before my prick muscles catapulted spunk out of my balls. It meant that I didn't shoot into her mouth. My spunk was sucked out of me. It was pleasurable. But I was deprived of that magnificent feeling of completeness every true orgasm should have. I corrected her. I explained it all carefully. She nodded eagerly and said she understood. But she couldn't get the timing right. When she licked me up, it was glorious. But every time I came, it was an anticlimax. Eventually, it became a disappointment. But by then she'd firmly established her preferences. It had become routine that we had three suck-offs to one screw. I remembered this as we fell on to the bed, our fingers stripping each other. Her breasts popped free from her bra as she pulled my prick from my fly. Our clothes melted away and we were embraced in the way she liked best, her pink love-lips panting expectantly under my nostrils while she held my prick with both hands and painted her mouth with its drooling knob.
I vaguely attempted to screw her, but she was too adroit. Without seeming to manage me at all, she got what she wanted; my head between her legs and my knob in her mouth. When she'd swirled her tongue around it a couple of times, me and my prick were one hundred percent in favour of continuing the activity.
She made herself comfortable and passed pillows down so I got comfortable too. We'd devised a system of lying conveniently close to be licked, while our hands were free to do other exciting things. She snuggled my prick in the cleavage between her breasts and massaged my knob in the soft, sweaty flesh while her tongue teased, licked and probed my Brownie. I wrapped my arms around her cheeky little ass and while my tongue tip probed the union of her love-lips, my fingers pried her buttocks apart and teased her Brownie. It was very pleasurable, lying leisurely, licking and laving each other, stimulating with exquisite sensations, and boosting ourselves higher and higher. The higher I was boosted the more wonderful my sensations. But despite my pleasure as my knob was beautifully licked, dissatisfaction simmered within me. And the closer I came to boiling point, the more apprehensive I became.
We climaxed together. She always arranged that. She'd had numerous little orgasms while I was licking her out, but she could always whip up response to my orgasm with a big orgasm of her own. We poised on the pinnacle of ecstasy. I was drunk on the taste of pussy. I had one love lip in my mouth and sucked it while I licked across the crown of her clit-bud. My knob quivered, my prick strained, gathering its resources to spurt, and her clit-bud gave a tiny hiccough and tried to climb right up inside my mouth. It was perfect until that moment.
And then she sucked!
She sucked like a demon. It was tremendous suction. She could have sucked a banana clean out of its skin. Her grandmother must have taught her to suck eggs when she was a babe in arms. She'd have drained dry the Pacific without taking breath!
My spunk was primed to spurt. A fraction of a second more and it would have jetted up through my shaft with deliriously hot fury. But she sucked first! My bewildered spunk was whirled up by her suction, was drawn up through my shaft before it knew what was happening, and was trickling down her throat before it even knew it had arrived.
Her licking had been so stimulating that I spurted copiously. But my last three or four spasms were an anticlimax almost too painful to bear. My sperm was sucked out of me! Even after I collapsed limply, she still sucked on greedily, absorbing my last few drips of drool.
She was dreamily satisfied. I wasn't. I felt as though she'd used a stomach-pump on my balls. We lay quietly for a time, my cheek resting on her wet, spread-open love-lips. Now my prick was flabby she'd crammed all of it into her mouth. It was a sorely disappointed prick, but it was content to curl up in such a moist, hot haven. Presently she slobbered my prick out of her mouth, sat up and held it with both hands. She worked on it delicately, a caressing arousal that would quickly get me in the mood again. "I've been wanting to be with you for so long," she said blissfully.
"Me too." I propped myself up on one elbow and strummed my fingers between her love-lips.
"I love your cock," she confessed. "I love its taste of spunk."
"Let's do it differently, next time," I suggested. "Let's screw. I love screwing!"
"If you want," she said with the air of a martyr. "But I did warn you. Now, it's happened."
My flabby cock uncurled and stretched itself. "What's happened?"
"What I warned would happen. I'm pregnant."
It took a few moments to sink in. I gulped. "Pregnant?"