Yes! A holiday! That was it! and something…something different. Something…well, perhaps a little extreme, even.
No, let's be honest. Somewhere where you can meet men. Privately, discreetly, without having to worry about all these…these people of Ed's finding out. A holiday off by yourself, incommunicado, under an assumed name, perhaps… The more she thought about it, the more excited she got And she found herself once again pawing at her crotch frantically, gasping with passion as her fingers rubbed her clit wildly under the thin dress (she never wore panties these days), moaning with pain and delight as she brought herself off again.
This time, with her eyes wide open. The old fantasies wouldn't do any more. And her present course, she fervently hoped, would remove her from the necessity of having to do this for herself for a while. The worst that could happen was that she'd have a new fantasy to occupy her mind while she did it The best? The best could mean…anything.
She gasped and cried out, jamming her fingers deep inside the wet may of her vagina as the pleasure-pain grew too much to bear and the agonized twitching of her clit drove her into yet another spasm of ecstasy…
Six days later, on a dark strip of beach near Nice, a new, almost unrecognizable Nan Mikell-hair cut short in a Vidal Sassoon-styled haircut, her face reshaped and restructured by makeup experts, her pert body decked out in sports clothing of the latest Mediterranean cut-released the hand of the dark, smooth-muscled young man she'd been walking with on the sharp-pebbled strand and turned to face him. He wore only bikini trunks and a thigh-length, open shirt, and, as her hands slipped inside the shirt and ran down his aroused skin, goosepimpled in the cool air of a Riviera evening, she heard a hoarse sigh escape his lips as his muscles tensed.
"Hey, baby," he said in his broken English. "Not here…you see…" And he put his hands on hers. "The moon…"
"It's dark enough," she said in English. Her own voice was husky with excitement "Hon, cher!," she went on in passable Bryn Mawr French. "Non, lais-sez-moi, comme ceci…" And, standing on tiptoes in her low espadrilles for his kiss, she let her hands wander down his front It was dark enough, after all. Nobody'd see. The flics didn't patrol this stretch of beach at night And her palm slowly, sensuously, rubbed the bikini front bulging with a thick and powerful load.
She kissed him again: once, twice. And as she did, her fingers slipped inside the trunks and began, very slowly, to pull them down.
"Non…Non…" he said. But her lips silenced his protests-which sounded thoroughly insincere anyway-and the insistent hands continued pulling the rubbery cloth down…down his legs, to fall on the ground.
"Step out of them," she said. And she helped him. Then she knelt before him, her knees protected from the sharp stones of the beach by the trunks he'd shed. And her hands roamed softly around the thick thighs, the hard and muscular buttocks, before cupping the fat balls and caressing their tightly wrinkled skin and guiding the thick, straining cock to her eager and ready lips.
She'd picked him up on the street, in the narrow area between the Old Town and the big hill called Le Chateau that dominated the town. He'd been afoot; she'd been in the rented Alfa Romeo, driving with the top down, looking for a beautiful young man. She'd found him in a matter of moments. They'd driven to the Promenade, and here they were, only steps below the sidewalk above, with cars whizzing by overhead. And she didn't even know his name.
That was the way she wanted it No names, no personalities. Just eager and kiss able, caress able bodies in the dark. Two people meeting in the dark and making love, and then going their separate ways…
And now, as she'd expected, she found a certain excitement in the business of kneeling so abjectly in front of this nearly naked stranger, ready to serve him utterly, ready to… Ahhhh. How delightful! She kissed the fat head of the quivering cock before her, kissed it first on the eye, which already bore a single bead of liquor gleaming in the dim light of the half-moon above, which she was quick to lick off with her little pointed tongue. Then she kissed it lightly, in a series of little pursed-mouth kisses all around the head of it, standing so hard and free before her. Circumcised: Jewish? Perhaps. She wanted to know nothing about him at all. She only wanted the experience of him.
It was so large, so thick! She'd have a time of it getting it in her mouth, she thought But she was determined to please him, to please him utterly, and her determination led her to redouble her efforts to do everything-everything-that would draw from the young man the greatest display of unbridled passion. And, her jaws straining, she opened her mouth wide to take him inside her.
And an odd sensation went over her. She realized that it felt…somehow good…in there. There was a kind of fitness to the big, round, hard head of it inside the soft and wet cavity that was her mouth. Softly, softly, she closed her lips upon it letting her teeth rest lightly just beyond the head, in the tender spot where he'd been circumcised.
Above her close-cropped head she heard his hoarse moan. His hands came to rest on her soft neck; he spread his legs to increase his pleasure, digging his sandaled feet savagely into the pebbles for support A tremor ran through his belly; she could feel it in his fingertips on her neck.
Abruptly, without warning, she darted her little tongue forth, licking fiercely across the bottom side of his glans. His body jerked with surprise; his cock twitched. The licking grew more frantic, more rapid. And now she let the sharp underside of her upper teeth scrape gently along the upper part of the head of his cock. His fingers tightened on her collarbones.
Undeterred, she let her fingers go to work on the shaft now, holding the head of his rod firmly in her lips, letting tongue and teeth nip and lick and lick and nip now and then, as her hands caressed the long and thick shaft, now lightly, now firmly: jacking him off, very slowly, very slowly and carefully, holding his pleasure back and back until he could stand it no longer.
But no, he was coming; hold it off now, make it last, make it last, until when he finally came it would be almost too much for him to bear. She let up on the shaft, stopped the action with tongue and teeth, and, holding the thick dick in her mouth, quietly, calmly, began caressing the tightly wrinkled skin of his fat and bulging bag, hanging free between the widely spread thighs.
They were covered, all around, with light hair. She touched this, caressed it, plucked lightly at it, and let her fingers rub softly all around the thick purse that held the heavy balls. They were large; each testicle was a handful for a smallish woman like herself. Her hands moved to and fro on them, her mind wandering with them.
Now, her exploring fingers found a light twitching in his crotch: a muscle somewhere moving spasmodically. Her hands roamed, looking for it-and found that his anus was clenching and unclenching, almost beyond control. Her fingers went forth, exploring, little by little-and caressed the spasming orifice rightly. His body shook uncontrollably in response.
"Ahhhh," she said, removing her mouth from his rod for a moment, still holding lightly to the shaft with one hand. He shivered as the cool night air hit the wet surface of his glans; his knees shook. Undeterred, she worked up a bit of spit on her forefinger, worked it under him, and slid it, one millimeter at a time, up his anus.
The hard legs trembled. And she had to steady him on the pebbled beach with one helping hand as her finger passed the first barrier and slid into the next chamber, where the muscles of the sphincter gripped her fingertip hard.