Chris was astounded that such a small opening would enlarge enough to take his thickly swollen cock and just as astounded that he liked the feel of it very much. It was tight and hot inside, and achingly exciting to his stiffened hardness. He was in a position which allowed him to reach over her back and cup her pert breasts in his hands and he could feel the softness of her legs against his – the farther in his cock went the closer he came to feeling her satin-smooth buttocks against his loins. Jeez – I sure didn't know about THIS! he marveled to himself.
He was far enough in now to be able to experimentally move his hot shaft back and forth a little in her slickly clutching anus. His balls felt wet from the oozing cuntal juices stimulated by Wendy's masturbating.
"You're in, lover!" she cried out excitedly. "It feels great. But easy does it, OK? I don't want to be disemboweled! How does it feel to you?" Little mewls of pleasure began to escape from her throat.
"Fantastic! I love it! And don't worry, sweets, I'm not going to tear you apart – I just might try to, though!" With that he pushed his obscenely impaling weapon hard forward as far as it could go. He couldn't stop himself. The tightness of her anus and the feeling of her finger-fucking herself on the other side of the thinly separating membrane drove him to a maddening desire to fuck as hard as he could go.
"Aarrrggghhh… owwwooo…" Wendy shrieked, crashing her loins forward to take the shock of his thrust, moving so suddenly the young mechanic had to throw his hand around her and grab her pussy to make sure his impaling rod stayed hard into her anus. The mound of cushions separated and got pushed to each side of the young girl's body, so that Wendy lay flat on her belly with Chris mounted on top of her. The sharp pain of his rough intrusion subsided and her moans of pain turned to mewls of pleasure as he started to pump his cock slowly up inside her. He replaced the throw pillows so that Wendy had some elevation and was able to get her middle finger between the inflamed lips of her pussy again.
He was certainly heavy – Chris was six foot three – nevertheless, she found the position immensely pleasurable and could tell by the way he was enthusiastically fucking away that he was enjoying it, too. Remarkably, his distended shaft was now sliding easily inside her, encouraging her, as she mewled endless incoherent whimpers, to rotate her moving rounded buttocks lewdly back at him in a brazen fury, grinding her hot, tightly clinging anal passage back over the throbbing length of his turgid cock.
Again she cried out hysterically, this time with a renewal of her orgasmic delirium brought on by the action of Chris' thrusting cock and her own manipulation of her clitoris.
"I'm cuuumm-iinng again, Chris! Oh, you fantastic lover! Oh, ooohh… it mustn't stop… don't let it stop eeevvverrr…" the befuddled girl begged, feeling the molten fire of her orgasm course through her body as Chris stepped up his relentless asshole fucking.
Fired up by her orgasm, Chris knelt up and pulled on her thighs, doubling her into a jackknife position to implant himself more deeply. He fucked furiously on, his balls slapping against her buttocks as the dribbling wetness trickled down the trembling softness of her inner thighs.
Again her cries of "Don't stop… don't ever stop!" filled his ears as he slammed hard against her white ass-cheeks in one frantic lunge, emptying his balls deep inside her quivering rectum, deep into her belly, the long, hard spurts triggering sensations of shattering satisfaction that caused her to gasp to the rhythm of his jerking spasms.
Wendy sighed contentedly, stretched out like a cat on the shag rug and murmured, "That was beautiful… just beautiful. You'll never get rid of me now, Chris… I'll do anything you like… I'll never leave you…"
Chris heard what she said, and he knew that Wendy meant it. It kind of shook him up. On the other hand, he thought as he looked down at her beautiful and well-satisfied form, maybe that's not such a bad idea…
"My, my, my. If you're not the prettiest girl in San Francisco!" Dawson gushed as she opened the door to greet him. He was practically watering at the mouth. He took her portfolio and quickly ushered her into the waiting taxi. As the cab pulled away from the curb, Jill glanced up to see Josephine peering from behind one of the dusty brocade draperies.
Dawson couldn't take his eyes off the young brunette, and no wonder – Jill had to concede that the red dress was a very flattering choice. Her luscious breasts stood up from the low decolletage, and the dress swung freely around her legs from the hips, where it hugged her figure perfectly, without being overtight. The sexy platform shoes made her long legs seem even longer and more shapely. She had even worn a red silk rose attached to a narrow velvet band around her neck, and the effect was charmingly provocative. Her dark tresses shone with touches of brilliantine, and she smelled subtly of exotic flowers. The total effect was devastating, and very Latin, though she hadn't consciously put things together to appear anything other than a totally American girl.
Dawson was obviously impressed, and it became apparent to Jill, from the man's nervous gestures and his confused babbling, that something was bothering him. Something was, all right – his cock! He could barely keep it in his pants, so turned on was he by the innocent art student. How would he ever be able to wait until after dinner?
Something was bothering Jill, too; several things, actually. Ever since she had drunk Josephine's tea, she had felt strange flutterings in her lower belly, and in her pussy. It seemed as though everything that touched her down there produced sexual arousal. She couldn't understand it, but rationalized that the feelings were a carry over from her fingerfucking in the bathtub.
Secondly, she hadn't been able to get a satisfactory answer from Dawson as to his wife's whereabouts. He evaded the question until she finally asked him again, point blank.
"Jack, I didn't get what you said about your wife. Is she still at the motel?"
"My wife? Oh, why, eh… to tell you the truth, little lady, Merle's having a short nap. She made me promise not to tell you… didn't want you thinkin' she was an old fogey. But the truth is she got wore out shoppin' today. She's not used to doin' all that walkin' – down where we live ever'body drives, you know." The big man chuckled a bit too heartily.
"But she will be joining us for dinner, won't she?" Jill asked somewhat anxiously.
"Well she'd better, or she's going to hear about it from me! Now don't you worry, Jill," he added, patting her hand solicitously, "we're going to take good care of you… very good care of you. Just think of Merle and me as foster parents…"
The taxi pulled up in front of the Fairmont and the liveried doorman stepped up to help them out of the vehicle. Jill got a very appreciative and curious look from the cab driver, which made her blush. He obviously thought she looked pretty good too.
"Might as well have Ernesto take a look at your portfolio right now, Jill, don'tcha think?" the printer said as they walked on the plush floral carpeting towards the tower elevators.
"I think that's a super idea," she bubbled. "I hope Mr. Garcia likes my work as much as you do, Jack."
"Honey, I know he's going to love every bit of it!"
The dashing Colombian was wearing another elegant suit, this one of charcoal gray silk. His shirt was the palest shade of pink, and he adorned his necktie with a small diamond stick pin – one which matched his cuff links. Jill got a whiff of his cologne as he ushered her into his luxurious suite. The effect was intoxicating. She thought Garcia even handsomer than she had remembered him. He looked like one of those society men who pose for Town and Country Magazine, and his courtly manners, his deep voice with its educated accent, and in particular, the way he looked at her, gave her strange feelings that she couldn't quite cope with. She was terribly impressed, and more than that, she found herself quite attracted to the smooth Latin. Suddenly her clothes and her look seemed all wrong. The dress, the ridiculous shoes and the seamed stockings and rose became a costume for some lifesize Barbi doll. At that moment, she would have been more comfortable in her jeans and tee shirt; at least that was honest. Garcia was in no way taken in, though he would be the last to show his amusement in front of her… he was too well bred for that.