Plebs

by Jim Goforth

  However as Desiree sashayed towards the door she did something to the towel wrapped around her waist and it fell away from her, dropping with a soft thump onto the carpeted floor.

  Corey sat bolt upright on the bed, hand frozen on the drink he'd been bravely about to finish off.

  Underneath the white towel Desiree was wearing nothing, but a black G-string, a tiny jet line of material which exposed the most perfect bare buttocks Corey had ever had the good fortune to see. He had an erection so blindingly fast he almost went giddy with blood loss from all other parts of his body.

  Desiree reached for the doorknob and turned the lock on it, locking them in.

  Now Corey drained his drink, all the while eyes on stalks staring at her gorgeous naked ass in the miniscule black thong, the colour an exact match for her long flowing locks.

  She swiveled around with a neat little pirouette as he set the glass down unevenly, hearing it rattle as it tried to stabilise his clumsy put down, but not caring less if it fell and smashed.

  His heart was thumping so loud he was certain it was reverberating throughout the walls of his entire house.

  Before, his mind had been awash with a tangled menagerie of confused crowded thoughts, now it was just a flood of thoughts centred on the one main focus; Desiree and how she was prowling towards him with a lustful seductive smile and a sinful swagger in her stride.

  Her hands slid up her body, pushing the hem of her T-shirt over the smooth flat plane of her tanned stomach, circling in sensuous motions.

  Corey's mouth was dry and it was making swallowing an extremely difficult proposition.

  He yanked madly at his own T-shirt, hearing fabric rip as he got it half up and twisted stubbornly around his face.

  Swearing into the material wrapped about his visage he desperately tried to untangle himself before he missed half the show, and succeeded in hauling the troublesome garment up above his eye level at any rate. It sat hunched atop his head like some half assed turban while he sat stupefied and watch Desiree flash one perfect breast and then the other.

  Then with lightning speed she wrenched off the shirt and flung it away, naked now, but for the tiny black G-string.

  She did a little twirl on the spot, giving Corey ample time to gaze with unmitigated lust at her sensational perfectly formed breasts and magnificent bared buttocks before she stalked to the end of the bed.

  As she crawled up onto it, a smile tickled her lips, this one not so much seductive as full of amusement.

  Corey guessed he was the source of hilarity and cast a rapid sideways glance at himself in the mirror.

  It was fair to say he did look relatively amusing, like some Middle Eastern clown with a badly fixed turban resting on his cranium and a huge hard on jutting out the front of his shorts.

  Desiree crawled up the bed like a prowling panther and grabbed hold of either side of his shorts, tugging them abruptly with deft hands.

  "Oh, looks like they're caught on something," she said with an accompanying lewd chuckle.

  "No surprises there," said Corey though it came out little more than a hoarse whisper.

  While Desiree carried on her best efforts to rid Corey of his shorts the man himself yanked the tangled shirt from his head and let it sail away to parts unknown.

  Once Desiree had the obstacle preventing downwards movement out of the way the shorts and underpants beneath slid easily down Corey's legs. The obstacle in question reared its head, throbbing and granite hard.

  "Well you're sure pleased to see me," Desiree announced, stating the obvious.

  She slithered up Corey's now naked body and he felt a small hand encircle his penis and close around it.

  The sudden intimate contact jolted fiery bolts of electricity through every single nerve end in his body, flushing him with excitement.

  He placed his own hands on her hips then slipped them around to clasp those wonderful buttocks and pulled her body in to his, measuring her length on his.

  'Please don't let this be a dream,' Corey pleaded to whatever entity he believed in, or more appropriately to whatever deity was likely to be listening to his prayers. 'And if it is a dream don't let me wake up. Not now, not ever.'

  It didn't feel like a dream. Though it did have a touch of fantastic surrealism to it the situation felt as completely perfect and as real as Corey could have imagined, the awesome sensation of Desiree's virtually naked body stretched out atop his, her breasts pressed to his pectorals, her groin hot against his. He'd felt a fleeting second of loss when her hand slipped off his erection as she'd lain on him, but that feeling was eradicated by the new doubly enticing feel of her crotch rubbing against his swollen figure.

  Her hands glided up to caress his face, her deep bewitching eyes locked on his and then her lips met his, mouths opening as one entity, tongues tangling and entwining.

  Long dark locks of hair fell wetly against his cheeks, dangling in his eyes.

  He couldn't care less, he drank her in, welcoming the brushes of contact from her midnight hair, traversing her nubile body with exuberant hands.

  She was sweet to taste and an absolute joy to hold against himself.

  He tangled his hands in her damp hair as they kissed, wanting his fingers to be everywhere at once, clasping her buttocks, stroking her nipples, cupping her breasts. She ground her hips against his and he reared up to meet her.

  She pinned him down, deceptively strong and plumbed the depths of his eyes with hers, lust and amusement dancing mischievously within them.

  She was a wanton goddess this one and Corey planned to worship her well and truly.

  They kissed and embraced and wrestled together for a long duration of time, rolling over and over until Desiree lay back on top.

  Corey had absolutely no concept of time or how slow or fat it was progressing, but that didn't trouble him one iota.

  If the sun sank, rose up again and then set yet again he wouldn't have minded.

  As long as he was here with Desiree in this familiar room which had become such a magical haven the world could simply collapse and implode upon itself outside for all he cared.

  Eventually Desiree took her sweet lips away from his and rolled off of him to lie next to him, propped up on one elbow. He automatically went to grab her again and haul her body back against his, but she wasn't going anywhere.

  One hand tipped with long black fingernails trailed slyly down his chest, tracing minute circles around his nipples and then continued a downwards ascent, tickling over his stomach, through the hair at his groin.

  Following her hands, came her mouth.

  Corey's head was spinning in a whirlwind haze of sheer disbelieving ecstasy.

  Suddenly the worst night of his whole life clicked over into the very best morning of is whole life and he was having trouble keeping up with the pace of his vicissitudes.

  Then inexplicably she released him and his erection jumped of its own accord, desperate to be back in her mouth.

  "You love me Corey?" Desiree asked teasingly.

  "With every fibre of my being," Corey replied, which was the earnest truth.

  In all honesty he thought he'd been in love with her from first sight and it wasn't because they were naked in bed together. That fact only reiterated the depth of his feelings for her, consolidated them, made them irrefutably stronger.

  "You mean that?" she asked, her lips only tantalising centimetres from the shiny red head of his member.

  "Sure do. I've been infatuated with you ever since I first saw you."

  Desiree didn't speak in response, but her ensuing actions were good enough for Corey.

  Dipping her head she resumed taking him into her mouth.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair, caressing the back of her head. Her pace increased, her mouth working faster, teasing with her tongue.

  "Honestly I don't mind if you do,” she told him when he advised her the machine was going to blow. "But considering we haven't even started fucking yet, better leave it f
or next time hey?"

  'Next time?' Corey inwardly rejoiced, the statement drastically altering his idea that it might be the only time they slept together.

  Like she said they hadn't even begun engaging in intercourse yet and already she appeared to have devious plans for a sophomore performance.

  Corey wasn't sure how much better the day could get from this point on, but things were looking mighty promising.

  "Now it's your turn," Corey told Desiree who looked a trifle confused.

  "My turn for what?"

  "Lay back and relax," Corey suggested and she did so, sprawling on her back.

  With deft hands Corey hooked her G-string and worked at sliding it down.

  She lifted her buttocks slightly off the bed, allowing him to take the thong off and he slid it down her legs, taking plenty of time to stroke and caress those thighs.

  Flinging the discarded G-string away Corey observed that Desiree was completely shaven downstairs, smooth as silk with not a hair in sight.

  When it came to whether women wanted their privates natural or the Brazilian style Corey actually had no preference. Having them smooth made his job simpler, he wasn't likely to choke to death on a stray pubic hair as had almost happened to him on one awkward occasion, but by the same token Corey just wasn't a fan of the shaven look on some.

  For example some very petite girls who chose the hairless style didn't look at all sexy, they just looked disturbingly like prepubescent girls and that scenario left Corey very cold indeed.

  Desiree however was all woman and the Brazilian look on her just made her even sexier if that was even possible.

  When it came to lovemaking Corey was under no pretences that he was a legendary Lothario, a Viagra pumped porno stud who was capable of sustaining an erection and engaging in tantric sex for an unrealistic duration of time.

  He was just an average fellow who could achieve the same average feats ninety per cent of all average men could and that's how he saw himself. He wasn't one of your loathsome bullshit artists who swore until they were blue in the face that they could go all night, boasting about this, that and the other when it was more likely they were asleep all night dreaming up these impossible scenarios.

  However Corey Somerset did possess one high powered strike weapon involving sexual activity and this was one thing which held him in high regard with and ladies lucky enough to be on the receiving end.

  He was a master of cunnilingus.

  He'd been told a number of times and he always set out to bring the woman to climax before sex actually eventuated, and he'd never yet failed.

  If there was one thing which could ensure Desiree remained his forever, this was it.

  Corey clambered astride Desiree and commenced work, his hands and mouth busy, beginning with her perfect breasts, kissing, licking, touching, fondling before he slowly trailed down her form with a path of kisses which lead to her stomach and downwards. Parting her thighs he ducked his head between them and made himself incredibly active.

  The job wouldn't be a difficult one; all their prior fooling around had Desiree primed to blow.

  She was wet already and very receptive.

  Corey lashed her with his frenetic tongue, tickled and probed with astute fingers.

  When her cries began to rise in volume level Corey guessed she was on the brink of orgasm and to pay her back for her teasing he abruptly ceased his frantic motions and stared up at her flushed face.

  "No, don't stop, please!" she begged, tangling her hands in fists in his long locks.

  With the satisfaction guaranteed Corey came up for air and crawled back up the bed, snatching a tissue or two to wipe the glazed donut look off his visage.

  "Jesus Corey," Desiree panted breathily. "I love you!"

  Corey wasn't sure how to respond, or even if he was supposed to respond so he just carried on grinning like a lucky lottery idiot.

  Assuming the time for sex might be arriving very shortly Corey rolled over to rummage in the single drawer of the nightstand for a condom. Discovering one he hauled the little foil package out, ready to rip it open.

  "What are you doing?" Desiree asked and Corey felt a sudden rush of alarm.

  'Oh shit' he told himself 'she's come and now she's gonna pull the plug before we even have sex! Damn, I knew this was too good to be true!'

  "Uh...getting a condom ready?" he said to her though he thought it was pretty self-explanatory.

  "Whatever for? I don't have any diseases. Do you?"

  "Hell no!"

  "Well then, fuck the condom," Desiree declared. "I want you to cum inside me."

  'Oh my god,’ said Corey to himself.

  The greatest morning ever just continued to surpass all expectations.

  Were he not so blinded by uncontrollable, barely restrained lust for this amazing example of female sexuality he might have been loathe to merely take her word for it and opted for the protective prophylactic anyway.

  However, if she wanted the sex without the condom and he decided to go against her wishes and roll it on anyway he may have been left doing the washing by hand and he didn't want that.

  "You're the boss," was what he said and dropped the condom back in the drawer.

  "That's right buster, I am," Desiree giggled. "And don't you forget it."

  "Not likely to," Corey replied.

  Suddenly she grabbed hold of him and flung him roughly onto his back on the bed. Surprised, Corey lay flat gazing into her beautiful eyes. They were wild and sparkling and alive with intense animalistic lust.

  As he lay there she mounted him, kneeling above him, reached down with one hand to seize his erection and then guiding it into her, impaled herself upon it.

  She placed her hands on Corey's chest and began to increase the tempo, riding harder and harder, and confined to this position Corey could do little, but grip onto her pumping buttocks or play with her bouncing breasts.

  So he alternated between the two.

  At one stage he attempted to overthrow Desiree and take control of the top, but she hung on and rode him back into the mattress.

  He wondered sketchily if his poor old bed could hold up to the ordeal. The trusty furniture piece had taken a hiding in the past, but never quite like the solid pounding it was taking right now.

  At one stage during their tangled flesh exploits she placed her lips close to his ear and amidst moans and groans whispered to him,

  "At the end, you have to take me from behind," she whispered breathily. "That’s how I like it best, it makes me cum really hard."

  "How about right now?" he suggested, drawing an enthusiastic response of approval from her and the appropriate manouvering into position from her.

  As he knelt behind her he thought of Raven and her gleeful affirmation that Desiree was a 'kinky freak' in bed. Corey had absolutely no idea how Raven came to know that, but it was a suggestion which came eerily close to the mark.

  Once again, no complaints from Corey there considering he was the world’s luckiest man receiving the brunt of Desiree's sexual appetite.

  He wasted no time ensuring she received the brunt of his.

  Desiree beat Corey to orgasm, but only just.

  Finally she made to roll over on her back and at last Corey withdrew, sprawling on his back alongside her.

  She was still panting for breath, but she twisted her head and gave him a cheeky smile.

  "That was magnificent hun," she applauded. "And just what I needed."

  "It was fucking awesome," Corey agreed.

  "Or awesome fucking."

  "That too," Corey grinned, stretching with a lazy hand for his cigarettes. "Smoke?"

  "Sure thing," she said. "And a drink would go down a treat too."

  "Alcoholic?"

  "Not even. Maybe a lemonade or something."

  "I can do that." Corey confirmed, rolling lazily into an upright seated position.

  His throat was dry and parched from the frenetic activity as well and it was probably a b
etter idea to down some liquid before inhaling cigarette smoke.

  He tossed the packet of smokes and the lighter onto the bed next to Desiree's naked reclining form and hefted his shiftless carcass up to wander across to the bar fridge.

  "You gonna drink a whole can?" He asked of Desiree as she lay flat on her back, thumbed a cigarette between her delectable lips and lit it up.

  "Nope," she replied, blowing out a wreath of blue smoke. "Just need enough to wet my whistle. I'll share with you."

  "Okay."

  Corey snagged an ice cold can of lemonade from the fridge, wincing at the extreme low temperature of the item and waltzed back to the bed, amused to observe that he was still half erect.

  "Feel this," he said stupidly and ever so briefly touched one of her nipples with the icy drink can. She jumped as if she'd been administered sever shock treatment and almost dropped her smoking cigarette on the bedspread.

  "Jesus Christ!" She exclaimed. "Do that again and you are in serious trouble!"

  "I won't." Corey promised contritely and popping the lid of the can, handed it to her.

  "Thanks babe." Tipping the drink to her lips she drank deeply, eyes closed as Corey sparked up a cigarette for himself.

  "That was the best sex of my life," he said honestly.

  "Really?" Grinned Desiree, passing the drink back to him. "Yeah, I thought it was pretty fucking hot. Best damn head I ever got."

  "For real?" Corey didn't think she was taking the piss, but he wanted to clarify anyway.

  "For real hun. I've never cum like that, and that is the honest truth," Desiree said, dragging heavily on her cigarette. "Most guys can't even find the clitoris with a map and even once they do manage to find it they can't make it do anything. But you my darling were absolutely brilliant. A master."

  Corey's head and his male pride swelled up like an overinflated balloon. Sure, he'd received plenty of compliments, but to be told this by the most stunningly beautiful creation this godforsaken world ever spawned was the highest praise he ever expected to receive from anybody. He tried without too much success to keep a giant smug grin from enveloping his features.

  "Can I ask you one thing," he said. "It's not about sex, it's about the Twilight Twins."