But this conquest was special to him. It proved what he had already begun to suspect. Each person had a sexual hang-up and once a way was found to expose it then it became manageable, usable. He had found it. Bunny had found it. He had no doubt that Darlene had found it. But Jim, no. He was sure of that. This might do it for him, though. Bunny might bring the man around. Pete was developing the theory that he and his wife could, under the right circumstances, take the most inhibited married couple, the most endomorphic, and bring them out, sexually.
He had, in fact, planned this whole trip to test his theory. He had told Bunny that of all his employees, Jim seemed the most square, the most inhibited sexually. They had met Darlene, however, and both agreed that she was a different breed of animal. She exuded sex whereas Jim was sexually stilted, or appeared to be. Pete had tested him out with a few choice erotic jokes and Baker's reaction had been decidedly negative, almost, he thought, to the point of prudishness. To Pete, in the seventies, in the twentieth century, this was tantamount to being an imbecile.
So the trip to San Felipe and out to the gulf where the storm had overtaken them. And something else, too. Sexual awareness. Pete could feel it. Darlene had been good back in the boat, tender like a seduced woman ought to be. But here in the bareness and the primitive conditions of the adobe cabin she was a marvelous fucking machine. She was pure sensuality and flagrant animal. Her pulsing pussy was as hot as any he had encountered. She sucked him inside her as though she wouldn't spew him out until she had drained the last vestige of milky seed from his limp cock. He liked that. He liked a woman who liked to fuck and did it without any bullshit attached.
"You're a good woman, Darlene," he told her as he drove his cock further up into her womb.
"Hey, man, you're the one to talk! You've got it all!" She was genuinely enthusiastic.
Darlene was proud that he said what he did, though. To show her gratitude she did a thing with her box that made Pete's eyes open wide.
Darlene had practiced it a long time. It was a thing she had seen go-go dancers do. And strippers. She tightened the muscles in her pussy by expanding and contracting them. She did it now and Pete could feel the increased pressure on his cock as it shot in and out of her vagina.
"Hey, that feels good," he said. "You're a doll, Darlene."
"Thanks, Pete. You're pretty terrific yourself."
"Where'd you ever learn a trick like that?"
"I'll never tell," she laughed.
"I'll bet," he grinned, in the dark.
"Don't stop." Darlene, pleased, made her pussy squeeze his cock like a handshake. She was glad she had spent the time in front of her mirror at home, practicing it. Jim hadn't appreciated it at all the first time she sprung it on him. He had been horrified, in fact. He had wondered what she was doing and to save herself from humiliation she had said that she had merely had a spasm.
"Well, I, hope you don't have any more," he had said sternly.
So she had let it drop. Except with extracurricular lovers. And now, with Pete.
She kept it up and she obtained a kind of rhythm that matched Pete's sliding trombone of a penis. As the head of his cock reached the entrance of her pussy, she did her contraction and her muscles squeezed the head of his projectile in a most delightful way. It became a secret sexual game with them. Pete found he could last a long time with this going on, and Darlene kept getting wetter and wetter as orgasm soaked her insides like a sweating flower.
It was getting to Pete. The rhythm and the squeezing were doing their work on his joint. He could feel the head of his knob swelling every time it passed those marvelously trained muscles of hers. It was a teasing yet wholly satisfying way to fuck and he wondered how a man like Jim could be so stupid not to recognize what a treasure he had in Darlene. It was enough to make him wonder if Jim had any balls.
Bunny would be finding out about that, he mused. As indeed she was, on the other side of the room.
Darlene dripped with sweat. Her body was like leather that had been soaped down, slick and smooth as glass. Pete held her close as he felt the seed rising from his scrotum and bubbling at the plunging root that cleaved Darlene. Her squeezing muscle missed the head of his cock every other stroke, but that didn't matter anymore. He knew what he had and he exulted in it.
Darlene, too, had found something. She had found appreciation. Hell, Pete didn't have to say anything. She could tell it by the way he held her. His sweat-soaked body lay on hers with a weight that made her loins writhe. His big cock driving into her told her more than his words. She squeezed him with her pussy because she wanted to, because now it was natural and womanly to do so.
And nature took care of them both. Nature and their own sexual feelings for each other.
Darlene gasped as her orgasms came closer and closer together. Hot floods coursed through her pussy, soaking over the throbbing cock that filled her. She clawed at Pete's back, gently but markedly. Her legs bobbed back and forth, up in the air, but of their own volition. Her head tossed from side to side as his cock burned into her, and her mouth fell open, s1ackened by the awesome beauty that inundated her. It was not only the majestic feel of his thick manhood inside of her but the incredible flush that it brought to every cell in her body. A thousand suns, miniscule and mighty, seemed to be born in each millimeter of her flesh. Currents coursed through her that she had never known before, and lightnings danced along the feather edges of unseen nerves.
Darlene came and came and Pete knew it.
His back looked like a highway map and it seemed to him that Darlene was trying to leap right into his body. She pulled at him as her pussy rose to impale itself further on his pounding prick.
Pete could feel himself responding and exulted in it. He knew that he was a man who had stayed beyond the point that any other man could have stayed. Darlene was magnificent and she made a man want to spill his seed just by a touch on the balls. The fact that he had brought her to the point of senseless ecstasy was a credit, he felt, to his own prowess as a lover. But he gave credit, also, to Darlene, who made it interesting with her squeeze play that delighted him with its surprise.
But Pete was beyond musing about Darlene's charms.
Orgasm, oncoming, took control of him just as a bombardier takes over the plane's control from the pilot when the target is in sight.
Their orgasms fused in the night-dark of the adobe. Pete felt his cock swell with the bursting milk and he let himself relax as his seed shot through his organ and spat potential life up into Darlene's womb. It was like death and life all wrapped up together.
It was ecstasy and pain. Delight and sadness. Like a white-hot shadow. Now there. Now gone. Heat from the sun as dark as unfired coal.
The far-off jingling of bells. The close blare of hot trumpets.
Her cunt contracted like a vast valley and a rumbling volcanic mountain.
His cock fought off its own death with a spurting attempt to deliver life like so many white milky bullets.
Stars exploding in their minds. Burst galaxies crumbling in space, slow motion milk-splashes in a black bowl.
They clutched each other like falling fearful climbers as they were swept down by the hot current of their sexual climaxes.
Swift rivers become kaleidoscopes by the dancing shimmering moon. Waters shot through with hot bright lightning. Electricity gone wild in the pink inside flesh of themselves.
Panting lions racing across sere fields after prey, the smell of death hot in their flaring black nostrils. The female, waiting over the red open neck of her kill, her sweat spreading her musk in the African air.