Rodney's lust-provoked cock spasmed with hunger and strained for release against his restraining band of cloth. He tried to banish the lecherous thoughts which were overheating his mind, but in spite of his anguish, his rigid penis remained hard and blood swollen. His eyes went to Liz's face. In turn, the provocative, lurid little prostitute lowered her eyes and focused on the bulge at Rodney's loins. She grinned again, this time more forcefully. "You like me," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "I can tell."
"I… well, that is…" Rodney stammered, knowing instantly what she was referring to – the unquenchable erection burning his pants.
Liz laughed throatily. Now it was time to be the feline, now was the time to cast aside her chaffing role of the lonely divorcee and become the uncontrolled hedonist, the lover of passion and sex. "Don't be ashamed of your hard-on, Rodney. I've been married, remember? I know how it is with a man."
"Liz, I'm sorry. Really I am. I better leave."
"No! Don't!" she demanded in a husky voice, her mouth and eyes so close to Rodney's face. "You think that just because we girls don't have penises, we don't get excited? We show it differently, and maybe not so obviously as your stiff cock…"
"Liz!" Rodney gasped, shocked at the lewd words.
"Cock, Rodney. You have a big hard cock, and it's because you want to fuck me, isn't it? That's why you're breathing as hard as I am and squirming in your seat and are all red in the face. You want to take your clothes off and fuck me!"
"Oh, God!" Rodney groaned, gasping for air like a stranded fish. His penis was palpitating wildly, and his brain reeled with the heady combination of gin and sex. Had he heard her correctly? Had this quiet lonely woman been telling him that he was wanting to fuck her with his cock? And what was the matter with him? He was thinking the same filthy words! Lord, his testicles were aching with the pressure of his sperm as if he really was that crude and debased as to take advantage of her. Didn't she know what her obscene use of the words were doing to him? He took another swallow of his never-empty drink and found that he could hardly hold the glass in his trembling hand. He must leave… get out before they were both sorry for what he might do in a sudden impulsive move. But he was rooted to the couch.
Liz leaned closer, her breath a white-hot fire brand on his cheeks and she touched his thigh lightly, her fingertips seething with desire, searing the cloth. "I can tell you're married, Rodney. What's your wife like?"
Rodney was taken aback for a moment. What was there to say about himself and Tanya? Before he could gather the semblance of a reply, Liz went on.
"It doesn't matter, Rodney," she said, "but I can tell by the way you reacted that you've got problems at home. Is your sex life what it used to be?"
"Tanya's a very capable sex partner," Rodney said, stiffly.
"Then it must be my first guess. She could be being very capable with somebody else." Liz shrugged, her breasts in marvellous profile. "My husband was fucking around on me all the time." She was almost nuzzling his cheek now, and her voice was sugar in his fevered ears. "We've both been lashed by the same whip. So let's lash back and have a little fun in the bargain."
"Liz… for God's sake!"
"You want to fuck me… and I want you to, only I don't have a big cock to get hard to show you. I just have to show you anyway I can!" Her breasts pressed hotly, softly against his arm and her lips found his jaw line and traced a pattern upward along his cheek, leaving a trail of molten fire along his skin. She let her hand on his thigh slide up higher.
Until she touched the throbbing bulge of his penis.
Rodney almost leapt off the couch in convulsive reaction. Liz stroked his encased but sensitive penis, and though he tried to pull back, she was sliding closer, increasing the rhythm of her strokings. Guilt welled up in Rodney, engulfed him in a wave of nausea at what was about to happen, and he tore himself free, standing up and trying to control his trembling, nerve-blistered emotions.
"What's the matter, Rodney?" Liz asked casually, standing beside him, slipping her hands over him and running freely over his lithe, rippling flesh. "Attack of the conscience? Thinking of your wife?"
"Yes-yes," Rodney managed, averting his eyes from her lustful figure. "What we were going to do is wrong, Liz. It was crazy, and… all wrong."
"I don't think so," she purred. "Where's you wife now? Does she support you in your profession, or trip off into the woods the minute she gets a little impatient or bored? But, Rodney, you lovely man, I've been alone for months here and I've got to have you! I want your big, hard cock fucking up inside my cunt, Rodney." Her lewd salaciousness seared a path of lust across Rodney's mind.
"I love my wife," he moaned.
"Sure you do. And you'll go home to her and be very happy. But that doesn't have anything to do with her, with now, with fucking."
Rodney's heart hammered violently in his chest and his prick was granite hard and seeping hot smears of his male seminal fluids. In gathering panic he told himself that he had to get control of the situation, that he couldn't bear to hear any more. That no matter what, he couldn't do it! No matter what Tanya was doing, he wasn't justified in fucking this woman, as hot and lustful and desiring as Liz was.
Liz's voice whispered huskily from behind him. "Rodney, honey…"
He turned, gathering his courage to say what had to be said, but when he saw her the words froze in his throat. She stood before him, completely nude. She had unhooked her halter and stepped out of her brief shorts, and the clothing made a brilliant puddle at her bare feet. She stood with her legs spread apart, her head and shoulders pulled back, and her hands knuckled provocatively on her proud, bronzed hips. She was smiling at his shocked expression, her teeth slightly bared and the pink, wet tip of her tongue showing. The moist, petal-like lips of her now naked vagina were presented in all their pink-tinged loveliness, and the soft light of the apartment splashed across the perfectly round, white breasts which jutted from her like inviting, ruby-crested mountain peaks.
"Well, lover? What do you have to say now?"
He couldn't speak, only stare at her lewd, wanton pose – and his cock returned to its maddening pulsations in his pants. He was transfixed, captured totally by the strange, fascinating allure of this now purely sex-oriented female in front of him and the absolutely lustful sensuality of the scene he was part of.
Liz slid her fingers, slowly, teasingly, down from her hips, her hand grazing her soft resilient pubic hair and the wet, glistening slit between her thighs. She began to stroke her thin, hot vaginal slit, baring her writhing clitoris, and stroked her whole helplessly contracting cuntal channel, sending rivulets of her sexually aroused lubrications to dampen her white inner thighs.
"I want you to fuck me Rodney," she crooned in cadence to her rubbing fingers. "I want you to put that wonderful male cock in my pussy and fuck me until I scream… and then I'll suck your cock if you want… I'll milk your balls dry of all the delicious white cum you've got building in them. I want…" On and on she intoned and her words were perverted obscenities which made Rodney more frenzied than ever. Her fingers in the gaping crevice of her wet, pink cunt excited him to a peak he'd never known existed. As much as Tanya loved sex, loved to have him fuck her… she never once allowed herself to be so completely abandoned, so void of modesty or shyness. She never said such things, never stood before him in depraved splendor and played with her female genitals. Never!
"I can't help myself," Liz moaned abjectly. "You're too much a man for me… and it's been so long, so damned long…" She trembled and her eyes clenched shut and hot breath hissed through her clenched teeth. "Ohhhh, how can you stand there and not want me? What more do I have to do? Please… tell me you want to fuck me…"