Content to let her do most of the work this time, I scooted down in the chair and she began bouncing up and down on my prick, slamming her ass down with savage thrusts that impaled her cunt on nine inches of hot hardness with each slide.
I nibbled at her tits as she fucked me and Kitty sat watching us with glittering, hungry eyes, following the rise and fall of Velvet's pussy as the encircling lips rode up and down my cock, coating it with her juices and squishing noisily when her clitoris ground into my thick pubic hair and she gave an extra wiggle of her pounding ass.
She grunted and hunched her way through five convulsing climaxes before the goodness swept through my guts and I grabbed her waist, slamming her down on my cock with fierce tugs and lifting her until my prick almost slipped out of the shivering lips.
With perfect timing, she held her last orgasm in check until she felt my cock start jerking. Then she drove her pussy down until I was hilted and worked her ass in a fast screwing motion that massaged hell out of my shaft as it jetted my come directly against the sucking mouth of her womb.
After she had gone, Kitty and I dressed and I spent a couple of hours on the typewriter. It wasn't easy to concentrate, for I could hear her moving about the apartment and I kept thinking of that delicious pussy that, so far, had never been screwed. In spite of the three comes Velvet had drawn from my balls, my cock stayed hard most of the time I wrestled with the Underwood.
The phone rang about one-thirty and Kitty answered it in the kitchen, calling out to me to pick up the extension. The minute she plunked her receiver down, a sultry female voice asked: "Who the hell was that?"
"Hi, Lena!" I greeted her, recognizing the tiger purr. I gave her a rundown on Kitty, neglecting to mention that she was old enough for the natural switch from dolls to dicks.
"Does that mean you can't make it tonight?" she demanded, disappointment clear in her tone.
"Oh, Jesus!" I exclaimed. "In all the excitement I had completely forgotten about that."
"Well! I like that!" Her voice was angry now.
"Damn it! You know better! It's just that I'm not used to being a temporary father."
"Don't alibi!" she demanded. "Are we going?"
"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty," I promised. "Have you checked with Helen?"
"No," she answered, somewhat mollified. "But I will. See you at seven-thirty, love!" She made a little kissing sound and hung up.
Lena Compton was a twenty-five-year-old widow with a figure that earned her about fifty grand each year in every media from advertising layouts to X-rated movies. I had met her a few months back and we had spent a couple of weekends together trying to discover new ways of accomplishing the thing we both enjoyed most. If there was anything Lena wasn't willing to try, I hadn't found it. In addition to being stacked for five feet and four inches of enticing curves, she was also black.
I had introduced her to Jack McPhail, producing a friendship which resulted in the invitation I had honestly forgotten.
Jack was a handsome Negro with whom I had collaborated on an article concerning interracial sex activity for one of the underground magazines. At that time, he was keeping steady company with a long legged blonde who was just about ready to make their liason permanent, an intention which she later carried out. Facing the problem of bigoted neighbors, they had pooled their resources and bought a small farm about thirty minutes from town. So far as I knew, they were as happy as any other couple and having a damned sight more fun.
Jack had called me, suggesting an evening with just the four of us, and had laid it straight on the line.
"Helen digs you, man! I don't know what she thinks you've got behind your fly, but she wants some of it. And I've been drooling ever since you laid that Lena on me! Like, I could eat that with a spoon!"
It was too good to pass up. Lena had shown a decided interest and I was more than willing to sacrifice myself between Helen McPhail's voluptuous thighs. It would be an integrated fuck of the first magnitude. A black man with a white wife and a white man with a black chick. All in all, it promised to be one hell of an evening.
I made up a story about a business meeting and fed it to Kitty. She made a face, then grinned.
"Don't worry about me, Uncle Steve. I was awake most of last night, reading your books. I'll read and watch television. I'll be okay. Just promise me one thing."
I promised.
"Wake me up when you come in," she said softly. "Please?"
I kissed the tip of her nose, not trusting myself to go any lower. "I'll dig out some more books for you, if you're really interested." Her quick smile told me she was.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lena Compton was waiting when I punched the buzzer in the vestibule of the three story walk-up. Her voice filtered through the tinny speaker, informing me that she was on the way.
She paused in the doorway, letting the light from inside outline her fabulous thighs through the thin skirt, and gave me a sensuous grin.
"Think I can turn 'em on with this outfit love?"
"Baby," I informed her, "you could make an iron rail out of a noodle!"
She tucked her arm in mine and rubbed a firm tit against my elbow. "Let's go!" she urged. "I've been posin' for a fuckin' queer all week and hittin' the sack as soon as I got home. My pussy just ain't happy with a damn famine like that!"
It was humorous in more than one way. Lena had tacked two degrees onto her name before her short-lived marriage. The joker had been drafted just a month after the wedding and shipped to Vietnam. Three months later, he was another name on the seemingly endless list and Lena was on her own again.
Faced with the problem of her color and unwilling to accept the pittances offered by the few businesses willing to hire her, she started posing for a small time outfit that produced porno pictures for national distribution. It wasn't long before she was offered a bit part in a low budget film and she hit the screen with a minor explosion.
It was impossible to watch Lena getting screwed on film without imagining that you were the lucky stiff poling in and out of that hairy snatch and sucking on those fabulous tits.
She had invested her money with unusually good sense and kept her life-style within reason. As a result, she was now able to produce an occasional skin flick of her own, adding to her bank account and insuring her future.
Still, she enjoyed putting on the Deep South act and mangling her usually perfect English. The other thing she enjoyed was sex. Any form, any time and anywhere! She admitted that the scenes in her films which depicted an orgasm were the real thing.
"Why mess around?" she demanded. "When a guy's shovin' the meat in the oven, there ain't no sense in wastin' it!"
Inside the car, she scooted over and shoved her warm hand between my legs, cupping my balls and getting an immediate response from my cock. She giggled as it began to swell and she adjusted her fingers to give it a helpful squeeze.
"I want some of that tonight," she reminded me. "You can screw that blonde pussy all you want. But you're gonna feed this black cunt at least once!"
"You may change your mind when you see what Jack's got for you," I chuckled. "He's got a long cock and a long tongue."
Her fingers milked my cock. "He'll get me all warmed up for this tonsil-swabber! I know what I like, love."
She knew I was getting excited as hell, so she pulled her hand away with a gentle pat. Rummaging around in her oversized purse, she fired up two cigarettes and put one of them in my mouth.
"I brought some pot along," she mentioned. "You think they'll go for it?"
I shrugged. "Why not? They go for everything else."