“Oh— my — goodness!” she cried.
“I think I can make you cum,” he said proudly, jazzing her more rapidly.
“Don’t want— to,” she managed.
“That’s all right— with me — but I will!” he panted, drilling faster and faster in and out of her body, the friction thrills rising.
Nevertheless, he continued the sliding pressure on her cunt, making it swell and heat with the plunging of his finger. His action on her body was wickedly thrilling, because the finger in her vagina made her hump and drive her butt up and down on his blade. The piston action thrilled the both of them.
He wasn’t done with finding her pleasure centers to whip her to further ecstasies. He got his free hand under her stomach to reach up and capture one of her rich globes. He made the nipple of one of her big breasts dig into his palm. About all he couldn’t do to her was French kiss her.
“Ohhh, Gunnar— you — using me.”
“All that I can!” he cheered.
His own sex enthrallment was perfect. The feeling of reaming her butt was just a delicious as he’d thought it would be. To lay full on that ripe, naked girl body, ramming into her tight, slick asshole, to knead her luscious breast and ream her hot little cunt gave him the sensation of totally owning her in sex. He rode closer and closer to his proud, bursting glory.
As he fucked into her he remembered his desperate and gloomy time in prison, and how he’d dreamed of someday catching up with her and paying her back. Before prison she’d been like a Goddess to him. He’d had some noble idea of taking some of the blame even through it hadn’t been his game. A week in prison had changed his ideas about nobility and sacrifice. Underneath it was a carnal desire for her body that turned him on. When he caught her it was to fulfill his desire to fuck every hole in her body, over and over.
“Baby, I never wanted to fuck a bitch animal so much in my life,” he growled in her ear. “I’m getting my own back.”
“You— an animal,” she gasped.
“I’m doing this… for me, and for all the poor guys who stared… oh, oh, oh… who stared at your luscious body and can’t have it. Oh, my God, this is delicious!”
She began to rise toward orgasm. It astonished her, yet even as she feared him, she also turned on to his mad desire for her flesh. It was going to be humiliating to pay tribute once more to his huge cock. It was inevitable. She began to stiffen and thrill, her sex nerves loaded to a creamy bursting.
“I hate this. I’m going to goooooo!” she sang.
“Well, now,” he said. “Oh, you sweet bitch, you can be ass fucked.”
Her muscles, subservient to the delicious, dizzy sex feeling that glowed throughout her body, began to lock. For him that was the final moment of true glory— to feel her soft flesh turn rigid under him, crazed by his plunging cock, right in her asshole where she said she couldn’t take it. He dug his cock in and out of her with demented pleasure, seeking her surrender.
It came.
It felt different to her than her other orgasms. Everything felt backwards. She couldn’t tell if she imagined it just because Gunnar’s prick was in her ass instead of her cunt, or if different nerves locked on her. The ineffable, inevitable sweet rush of orgasmic splendor surged up her body. She gave a unholy gasp of defeat and then began to throb. She squeezed down on Gunnar’s finger, still in her cunt and her ass muscle squeezed down on his moving shaft. It was incredibly sexy to feel her spasms going in her ass while the piercing prick also moved inside her.
“Ah, me. oh, me. I have tooo…” she cried.
“Yes, you do, baby, squeeze it off.”
A human being was never more vulnerable nor beautiful then when he or she was locked in orgasm, eyes bugged out, face straining, muscles locked and the body given over to the sweetest pleasure of sex death, jerking and undulating while there were soft gurgles and grunts of animal release. He reveled in feeling the girl give up her sexuality to him. It was fabulous.
Her exquisite throbs overloaded his thrilled shaft.
“Oh, now, Crystal,” he said to her. “I think you did me. I think you pulled my— eeeee — plug!”
He gave a snort of pure joy and dug his cock deep into her intestine for the final time. He grunted over and over, holding her tight to him, making her take his semen.
The glory run of all time with her. Right in the depths of her sexy ass, the Goddess used and conquered and bent to his will and pleasure. He let go enormous rushes of seed, his cock further inflamed to rich gushes by the lack of sex since Leaf had left. It was getting pretty habit forming, this rich pleasure of fucking. He could see why guys went crazy for women who could turn them on.
“Oh, Crystal, sugar, I really turn on to jazzing off inside of you!” he exulted.
She gave a humorous, short laugh as she heard his first tender word to her ever, it seemed. She tapered from her own pleasure now, an orgasm she had not wanted. Yet she glowed and didn’t mind the prick in her ass at all. He had cured her of her anal fear.
“Count your blessings, you prick,” she said. “We haven’t got m-much more time together.”
He let his rushes spurt in grunting glory and laughed in his turn. He’d left prison in a savage, anti-social mood, but all this sex with Crystal and Leaf had softened him, made him more human, he guessed. It had done exactly the opposite for the green-eyed beauty. Her lofty isolation had been invaded again and again by his cock, so that her affable and remote nature had become closer to human but angry.
It didn’t matter. He’d finished his business with her in a dazzling way, and all of the old scores were settled. He hugged her and throbbed a couple of dry throbs when his orgasm ended. It almost made up for all that time in prison…
Later that night she had her date with Bob Gardner, but he didn’t screw her. They fell in love.
CHAPTER TEN
Crystal opened her mouth and let the snowflakes drift into it to melt on her tongue. The snowflakes were tasteless— soft and cold, but so velvety on her pink tongue. She walked through the Vermont woods towards the small, isolated cabin inhaling the sweet, brisk air, enjoying the pungent odor of woodsmoke from the cabin and trying hard to adjust to the fact by Christmas she’d be married and the wife of a millionaire.
It was mid-December with many changes in her life in the past couple of months, since she’d first met Gunnar’s house guest. Bob Gardner was a wealthy young man who’d been living in Europe and had come home to be struck down by love for her. She’d been swept right along with him, into an intense affair that could only end in marriage.
“I just have to finish my financial business here in New York,” he told her, “and then we can be married and go on back to Europe. Paris, London, Rome to begin with. I see us settling down in the South of France.”
It was an incredible change for her. All her life she’d struggled— to get her degree, to work in her first computer job, to help her father, to pull off that WestAir thing, and then to flee to the East and go to work for A-C. She’d given not the slightest thought to marriage and children and settling down.
Bob told her that WestAir would be no problem at all. He’d pay them the hundred thousand and his lawyer could arrange a deal where she would be neither prosecuted nor have her reputation smirched by any charges.
She’d quit the Avery-Cascade Corporation and taken her first ever vacation in years. It was ending now with this ski trip to the slopes of the Vermont mountains where Bob had taken this hideaway cabin.
There was a pair of skis leaning outside the cabin, alongside of the door— Bob’s. He’d come up ahead of her to try the slopes, and written to say the place was great and to give her complete instructions on how to reach the cabin which was close to, but not a part of, the Greenbrier Ski Complex.