Tour cock's burning!" she panted. "It's… lovely!"
"I'm scared to move. I'll shoot my head off."
"Don't move!" she whispered. "Yet!"
She moved. As I humped over her, my legs were between hers. She brought her calves parallel with mine and hooked her insteps around my ankles. My sensation of being staked out increased when her hands closed over mine, gripping them as I squeezed her breasts.
"Rock!" she panted.
I tried to ram my prick in and out. Instantly her feet clamped tight around my ankles. "Not fuck!" she panted. "Rock!"
I got it then. The stack of cushions was the pivot upon which we hung! I rocked.
It was wonderful. Having my prick simmering in her hot pussy while I rocked backwards and forwards provided all the wonderful sensations of screwing without its exertions.
"Slowly!" she panted. "Make it last!"
I rocked. I floated. I almost fainted. It was like swinging, swinging forward with wonderful exhilaration, and at the high zenith, swinging back, my slight movements giving impetus for the next upward swing. Then up and up, the world dropping away, and glorious hovering suspense before the sweet plunge downwards and the uprushing earth and hot softness.
I rocked until her pussy boiled around my furiously erupting cock, "Rock!" she screamed. "Fuck!" she shouted and her sweaty, clenching buttocks squelched and squished and shuddered and jerked. Her curved vagina clung fiercely to my straight prick and spurted scalding cunt-juice over it until my jetting spunk tore up into her like molten seed.
We collapsed. That was a screw to beat all screwing. Although her drool was still bubbling and seething around my prick she was as limp as a dishcloth. She was exhausted. I was too.
"Let's lie quietly, side by side," she panted.
I pulled away. She remained with her cute little ass stuck up like a mountain peak. I pulled the cushions out from under her and she collapsed weakly. I lay beside her, touching the full length of her sweat-filmed body. My flabby prick lay upon her bottom. Presently she squirmed around to face me, tits to chest, belly to belly and head to head. She was recovering fast. Women do. "That teas lovely, Mike," She made it sound like I was a chef who'd served up a dish she particularly liked.
"You've a lovely pussy."
"But it needs a prick like yours to make it respond!"
I snaked my fingers into her wet crotch and stroked her slippery love-lips. Her fingers found my flabby prick and moved rhythmically.
"You're very lovely, Georgette."
"Any girl will look lovely to a man while she's stroking his prick."
"I'm pleased you came tonight."
"Better than playing with yourself?"
"Out of this world."
"I liked it too, Mike."
My prick was thickening and stiffening, stretching itself to attention. She let go of it.
"Don't stop," I urged. "You've a lovely touch."
"I don't want you to get worked up. You'll be disappointed."
"I want to rock with you again."
"Sorry, Mike. I warned you. I've only half-an-hour. I must go in a few minutes." Her mind was made up. It must have been an important date. I strummed her pussy zestfully, hoping she might change her mind. She clamped her thighs tight. "I'm sorry, Mike."
My prick howled in dismay. "When do I see you again, Georgette?"
"We'd better not. You're a nice boy, Mike. I could like you too much. I wouldn't only want your prick. I'd want you too. All of you!"
"Meet me tomorrow," I urged.
"I don't want to start something I can't finish."
My prick screamed. Fix it. Fix it somehow!
"What is it you can start, yet not finish?" I asked.
"I know me, Mike. I screw around. But it's only until I find Mister Bight. Then I'll want to stay with him."
She's got a luscious pussy! screamed my prick. Fix it!
"How do you know I'm not Mr. Right?"
"You'd be too free and easygoing, Mike. You don't want to settle down."
Think of tomorrow, screamed my prick. Think of that luscious pussy draped over a mountain of cushions!
"Who says I don't want to settle down?" I demanded.
She studied me coolly. Td like to think you meant it, Mike."
This is your chance, screamed my prick. Grab it!
"A man gets tired of screwing around too," I said. I listened to myself saying it. I was horrified. I was talking myself into another jam. But I couldn't stop myself. Cock adrenalin was flooding through my mind. "You're sweet, Georgette," I said softly. "Every moment I'm discovering you anew."
"You're a nice boy, Mike. I wish you meant what you say."
"I do! Listen. London's full of pussy. Every time I stamp my foot a dozen twats scamper out from the woodwork and grab my prick. It's not your pussy that fascinates me, Georgette. It's you!"
She'd become startlingly loving and tender. "Really, Mike?"
"I've never quite felt this way about another girl."
She's groggy, approved my prick. Now the knockout. Then screw her again.
"I think… I think I love you," I stammered.
Georgette pulled away from me. Her eyes shone like stars. "I hate to go, darling. If I'd known I'd have cancelled. But I can't let these people down."
"Tomorrow?" I insisted.
"Of course, Mike." Her eyes were serious. "You'll have time to think things over. Perhaps by then you won't want me."
"I want you!" I insisted.
Tomorrow," she agreed. "Shall I come here?"
"About seven," I said. "Afterwards we can go out for a quick snack and come back."
She pressed my shoulders down against the pillow when I tried to get up. "Let me slip away quietly, darling. It'll be easier that way." She patted a pillow under my head, closed my eyes with soft fingertips and arranged my half-hard-on upon my belly. She gave the knob a little kiss then dressed.
I watched her. She did have a lovely body. Tomorrow! gloated my prick. We'll probe her lovely pussy to its depths! She leaned over me and gave me a lass full of womanly affection and tenderness. Then she slipped quietly away.
I lay back contentedly. My prick gave an eager little leap when I thought of Georgette's curving vagina.
And then abruptly I remembered that Carol too was calling at seven o'clock. My prick shrieked in despair. Stupid bastard! it yelled. You've balled it all up!
Chapter 11
It was midnight when Dave arrived. I was relaxing and stroking my prick, and fantasizing with Georgette, and my dream girl. My prick drooled but that was all. I couldn't successfully toss myself off. I needed a girl around even if it was only for the smell of her pussy.
Dave looked terrible, white and shaking. His eyes were deep-set and anxiety creased his forehead. He flung his jacket on a chair. "It's a bastard life!" he said. He stripped off his shirt. I wasn't surprised he was pale and weak. Those three sisters climbing over him must have tired him. "Georgette was here," I mentioned.
"Fuck Georgette."
"I did."
"Then you're stupid! Who wants a prick curved like a boomerang?"
"It was a unique experience," I said coldly. I resented him adopting a veteran's attitude. "I intend to repeat the experience."
"You think you've got troubles!" he choked. "I'm so deep in the shit it's up over my head."
"What's bothering you, Dave?"
"Those three sisters!"
"Don't ask me to help out. I'm already stuck with four cunts I can't-handle."
He dropped his trousers and showed me his cock. It dangled limply, very red and very tender. "Look at that!"
"It's a little overworked," I agreed. "But that can happen to any prick."
"I found out something I didn't know until today. They're nymphomaniacs. They can't be satisfied. They're wolves. They eat me alive. I've been fucked, sucked, tossed off and milked dry of spunk every way they know. And they're still ravenous. They've been at me non-stop all afternoon and evening. They've only just let me go. They'd kill a healthy man in a week."
"Why worry," I said. "You fucked 'em. Now you can leave them."
He sat on the bed beside me moodily, pulling on his prick to see if he could get a response. "I'm trapped, Mike," he said in a voice of doom.
"Balls. You're sitting pretty. It's me who's in the shit."
"You don't know the worst," he gloomed. He dropped like a lily over a grave.
"I'll swap with you!"
He looked up quickly "Would you?"
"Like a shot. Four girls I'm supposed to marry this month, and a husband citing me as a Correspondent."
"I'm even worse off," he said. He threw up his hands in despair. "You can't trust women! We were merely having fun, the four of us fucking and sucking gloriously. That's all there was to it. Now they've plunged me into the shit and are holding my head under." I stared.
"Two of them have clicked!" he said bitterly. "They've got it all neatly recorded, and are witnesses for each other. It happened on my last leave."
"Didn't they take the pill?" I asked, aghast.
"They said they had. I fell into the trap. Now | they've got me. They've presented an ultimatum. I'm to marry one, but live with all three! The one I don't marry will apply for a paternity order to keep me legally tied up." His eyes glazed. "Think what it means, Mike! I've got to support three women, and their kids! Moreover, now I'm in the bag, they've shown me their true colours. There's no satisfying them. They're nymphos! Every leave they'll devour me like cannibals. I'll be carried aboard ship on a stretcher. They destroy all the fun in screwing. They'll drain me dry of wages and spunk."
"And you warned me not to get involved!"
"I was only screwing around," he moaned. "How does all this marriage business come into it?"
"It steals up on you," I sighed. I had gloomy knowledge of it all.
"I was merely happily screwing. Now… there's all this marriage trouble! I can't take it, Mike. I'll blow my brains out."
"I'm in the same shit," I said.
"There's one way out," his eyes gleamed.
"There is?" I asked hopefully.
"I'll stay aboard. I'll never set foot ashore! I'll be a shuttlecock, batted from port to port." His eyes glowed happily. "That'll fool them."
"Lucky bastard!" I said enviously.
"I was smart," he said. "I didn't tell them I'm shipping out tomorrow. They're cooking lunch for me. But I'll be down river on the high tide when they wonder why I haven't turned up. They'll never get their claws into me!"
I eyed him with admiration. Then I thought of my own problems. "Dave," I said. "About that gun to blow your brains out?"
He frowned. "I haven't a gun."