“Have I told you that you’re beautiful?” he whispered, his arms reaching around her waist then moving upward to capture the slightly pendulous cones of her tits. “If I haven’t, then let me correct a dreadful oversight. Melinda Tuning, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls you’re about to bugger,” she said, cooing softly while he toyed with her breasts, creating all sorts of warm, trembly sensations within her.
When her nipples swelled and stood stiff and a moist flow of juices dampened her quim, his hands slid downward, one covering the mound of her cunt and the other caressing the upturned cheeks of her buttocks. With the sexy thoroughness she had come to expect from this man, he carefully prepared her body for the stiff invasion of her asshole.
Dipping a finger into the wet channel of her cunt, he then moved the slickened finger to her anus. He used her own pussy lubricants to moisten her ass, carefully coating the tight, round hole.
She moaned and trembled, enjoying the probing fingers that moved from cunt to ass, wiggling and drilling. She shivered in anticipation of the fatness that would soon slide up to pack the tiny mouth of her anus.
Urging her to relax, the man behind her then pulled the half-moons of her rump apart. The throbbing head of his cock pressed to the drawn ring of her anus. She quivered under the intimate contact, but forced her body to relax. His hips pressed inward with a slow, but steadily increasing pressure.
“Ahhhh!” Her natural resistance gave way. The fat head of his prod popped into the viselike confines of her asshole. “It feels so big!”
It did! She felt every inch of his engorged cock as it slipped into the channel of her backside. She felt the delicate membrane of her asshole mold around his thick length like a glove, squeezing tightly to his circumference. She felt every quiver and jerk of his massive tool.
“Tight,” he groaned from behind her. “You’re so damn tight!”
She wiggled her haunches a bit, whipping him around within her. He groaned again, slowly pulling back, then easing in once again. He moved carefully, allowing her time to accustom herself to his size and depth of strokes. Only when she assured him she was totally ready did the graduate student up the tempo of his ass reaming.
Her whole body trembled as the hot, fiery sensations generated by his stiff rod swirled through her. She rocked and hunched, meeting the in-out motion of his pelvis. She clamped down, gripping at his cock with all her strength, an action, she realized, that created a tight friction that fired the surface of his prick.
Gratefully, his hands returned to her chest and recaptured the swaying forms of her tits. While his cock fucked her ass, his hands tugged and squeezed the ripe, aching cones, doubling the pleasure of their coupling.
In and out the fleshy staff of his cock reamed the round channel of her asshole. She felt like a volcano nearing eruption. Each deep-drilling stroke of his sex sent shuddery lust running up her spine. Her body responded. She threw herself back, impaling herself on his swollen lance. When he pulled back, she eased from him, then hunched back. She fucked herself on his cock, while he poled her.
“I’m close,” he whispered, leaning forward on her back.
She didn’t mind. Her own need was driving her closer and closer to the edge of climax.
Harder and deeper, his cock drove into the gripping confines of her rear. She hunched and wiggled. She moaned and groaned. She fucked and screwed herself onto his joystick. And she came.
A moment after her quaking ecstasy began, he came, flooding the fiery channel of her bowels with a steaming fountain of sperm and semen.
Melinda awoke the next morning, lazily reaching out to hug the man beside her. Last night had been marvelous. What had started in the living room, ended in her bed after hours of nonstop sex.
Her eyes opened wide. Phil was gone. She glanced at her night clock. It read noon. “Phil?” she called out softly, then a bit louder, “Phil?”
No one answered.
Slipping from the bed, she hastily checked the rooms of her apartment. Phil wasn’t there, nor did she find a note anywhere. An aching hollowness filled the pit of her stomach. Was this the way it ended, Phil quietly leaving without a word of goodbye while she slept?
She felt hot tears mist her eyes, but wiped them away, refusing to cry. She was a big girl. She knew that the past two nights had been nothing but an opportunity for sex for the both of them. She had enjoyed it. Wasn’t that enough? It was, she told herself, but why did she want more than just a weekend of balling?
She glanced around the apartment, remembering. It seemed so empty, even more lonely than before Phil Howard had first stepped foot within her door. She hugged herself, suddenly feeling chilly.
Get off it kid! You’re acting like some schoolgirl who’s just lost her virginity and feels abandoned when the man leaves her, she chided herself. It did help.
A knock came at the door. Melinda jumped, startled. Again the knock sounded.
Trotting into the bedroom, she grabbed a robe from the closet and wrapped it around her. The knock came persistently again. She trotted back to the living room and opened the door.
“Phil!” she almost cried aloud, warmth and joy flooding through her.
“Sorry I left so early,” he winked. “But I had this great idea and it couldn’t wait. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re beautiful when you’re sleeping?”
He pushed into the apartment, carrying two suitcases. She stared at him, unsure what was going on.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Moving in,” he said. “That is if you’ll have me. All my things are down in the car. Susan and Jace thought I was crazy as hell.”
“Moving in? Just like that, you’re moving in?” She couldn’t believe this was happening. “Mr. Howard, I haven’t even asked you. You don’t just up and decide to move in with a woman without asking her.”
“Why not? Is there a law that says this and that formality must be observed between a man and a woman who love each other?” he asked. “Besides you can always kick me out if it doesn’t work.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a weird outlook?” She suddenly realized what he had said. “Love?”
“Yes, didn’t I tell you?” He looked at her with big, green innocent eyes. “I love you.”
She stared at him with her mouth open, then began to laugh. By all rights, she should be fuming and raging with anger. But she didn’t find an ounce of anger anywhere within her. “I don’t know if I’ll ever adjust to your style.”
“Don’t try to. I don’t have one,” he chuckled. “I guess this means you’re not throwing me out on my ear then.”
“No, I don’t know why, but I’m letting you move in,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. “I’ll probably regret this, but I’ll never know unless I give it a try.”
“Good,” he said. “And by the way, I want to marry you.”
She laughed again. “Phil, I’m not sure whether to take you seriously. One thing I am sure of is that if this lasts only a week, it will be one week filled with surprises.”
He just grinned and kissed her again. “Now, I’ve got to finish unloading my car, then I’ll get that carburetor kit and see if I can get yours running again. And I do love you, and I am going to marry you.”
She laughed as he walked back down to the parking lot, that funny-looking grin on his face.
Two months later, Melinda Tuning stood before a justice of the peace and vowed to take Phil Howard as her husband, until death did them part.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Hey, stranger, over here.”
Susan looked around the student union cafeteria. She found Phil alone at a table. She smiled and went over and joined her brother.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said coyly, “or your wife will begin to suspect.”