She sat up, ran her fingers through her sopping wet raven hair, and said, with her dark eyes boring right into me in the moonlight, “Oh, it will go on, of course… but it won't really matter and we both know it.”
For answer, I reached down and gave her cunt a tender squeeze under water and kissed her nipples while she pressed my head against them. Then we got up and walked toward the mattress pad, where four figures writhed and merged in a mad melange of human flesh. We watched them for a few moments… as nearly as I could figure things out, Cousin George was being fucked by Francie sideways and was sucking Darlene, who in her turn was sucking little Jean, who was flopping around in orgasm like a beached fish. I looked down at Anita, close in the curve of my arm, and caught her looking up at me with an expression that said, “Shall we?”
I shook my head and she smiled and, without a word, still with arms about one another's yielding waists, we began to walk toward the house. When we were halfway there, she said, “We'd better see how Missie is,” and I said, “That's right.” We looked at one another and burst into laughter. We weren't going to bother with Missie… not then. We both wanted to be fucked again on a bed.
TEN
Anita led me to her little bedroom… she and Darlene had their own rooms, while Francie and Jean shared a room with a double-decker bed. Her reason for taking me there, instead of going to my room, was simple. When we crossed the threshold, she moved close against me and kissed me and said, “I've never fucked anybody in my own bed. I want you to be the first.”
“Not even Cousin George?” I let my hand slide down the glorious yielding curve of her back and she spread her legs slightly so that I had easy access to her creaming cunt from behind.
“Not even Cousin George,” she whispered, her lips less than an inch from mine. “We did most of our fucking outdoors… or in the shack.”
As our bodies fused and her lips met mine in a long, lingering kiss, and her tongue wreathed itself around mine, it was as if there had been no fucking at all that evening. I felt fresh and eager and my cock furrowed her belly, its top nuzzling the pit of her navel.
She slipped a hand edgewise between us and caressed its rigidity wonderingly. Pulling her lips free from mine, she said, “Jesu, darling Jeff, doesn't it ever get tired?”
“Not tonight… not now.”
She laughed, said, “I must have given you more Spanish fly than I thought.”
I said, “It's not Spanish fly… that's worn off.”
It was true… for the first time since dinner my cock felt like itself. The last trace of the terrible burning itch had vanished. My telling her this caused her to melt against me in sheer delight and she whispered, “I'm glad, darling Jeff… so glad!”
Then our lips met again and melted and, without separating, she backed toward the bed, pulling me with her, keeping her grip on my prick. She fell backward across the bed and I stayed right with her while she rolled and slid to the center of the bed and opened her legs wide and placed the head of my dong between the lips of her juicy cunt.
“Let it go the rest of the way by itself,” she whispered, bridging herself and lifting her hole to enclose my manhood.
I extended my loins slowly forward, and once again the illusion of fucking Anita for the first time returned as it slid slowly into her until our hairs met and interlaced in rapturous greeting. Thus imbedded in the richness of her lush young body, I lowered my head and kissed her nipples slowly, moving from one to another and back again and toying with those marvelous gobbets of flesh that seemed to disappear into her torso when I released them from my grip.
Anita ran her fingers through my hair and stirred ever so slightly downstairs and began kissing my throat and shoulders, emitting little sighs of sheer delight. The next time she shifted her dripping cunt, I shifted with her, and then the game of love was joined. Her arms went tight around my chest as the action got underway. Her dark eyes glazed with passion and her breathing became short and sharp with arousal. She began to rotate her cunt even as she thrust and withdrew it, and I let her take the lead and moved with her as her excitement mounted rapidly. My own was not far behind.
She cried, “Jem… Jesu… Jem…as her orgasm gripped her and began to move convulsively, so wildly that I feared she would lose me entirely. It was time to take charge again. I grabbed the backs of her thighs and doubled her legs back, rolling her halfway up beneath me. Her cunt was still bobbing and thrusting wildly like some maddened little animal, so I pulled all the way out and she screamed her disappointment and frustration. “Don't… not now… you can't leave me now…!”
I let her dangle for a moment, enjoying the view of her creaming cunt. Its lips quivered as the motion came to a slow stop… then they actually seemed to reach outward for the dripping dong whose head remained a tantalizing half inch out of their reach.
“Please!” she gasped. “Por favor… por favor…
She knew who was master now. I drove into her all the way with every ounce of force I possessed and rolled my prick around in her depths. She emitted another little scream as I jammed my dong through her tender cunt tissues and then the scream became a sobbing moan of sheer delight.
Her cunt began bobbing and rolling wildly again, and I pulled out all but an inch of prick and she slowed down… then I jammed it in hard again. Even though the sex madness holding her in its grip, Anita got the message and let me run the show. Nor, as it turned out, was she sorry, for I surpassed myself. I laid it into her time after time, using my grip on her thighs to regulate her crotch to suit my fancy. Then I let it rest all the way in and manipulated her cunt to suit myself… with little rotations and sideways motions that made her let go of my chest and beat the side of the bed with the flat of her hands.
Then I released her left thigh and began rubbing her arsehole with my right hand, fingering the tight little ridge-rim of the rectum and feeling her body jump as if I had stuck a live wire into it. This set my jizzum to surging, and I held her tight against my chest… she was already crying with the violence of her coming and locked arms and legs around me as we began to buck and roll while her narrow bed, unused to such weight and action, began to creak a chorus to each doublethrust.
This time, when my sperm poured into her flooding crater, it seemed as if my orgasm lasted forever… though it could not have endured more than ten seconds or so by the clock. She opened her eyes and looked at me with sheer love making her glow all over and whispered, “That's one, darling Jeff.”
I said, moving gently within the wetness of her depths, “I didn't know I had that one in me.”
She giggled, responding gently to my motions, then stiffening in an afterclimax. Then she said, “Maybe you didn't but I sure knew I had it in me.”
I had the feeling that I could go all night… and, as things turned out, I was right. But not with Anita…
Another voice spoke from the doorway on my left, a deeper, familiar feminine voice with a husky undertone that reeked of sexiness. It said, “Would you mind very much if I cut in for the next dance?”
Missie was standing there, her silhouette outlined in gold by the hall light behind her. She was naked, covered only by the two hip-length braids of long, thick, heavy black hair that seemed to detour gently around the huge mounds of her breasts.
If Anita had cantaloupes, her mother had honeydews, large and lush and as firm as those of a teenager, although she had to be at least in her early thirties to have had Anita. Where Anita was a budding flower that promised tropical prodigality, Missie was the flower in full bloom… mature perfection.