A Taste Of It

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A Taste Of It Page 2

by Karla Francis


  Her knees clamped tightly to his hips and her thighs tugged at his flanks; her heels hooked behind his knees, pulling him forward as her hips rammed down to meet the lunge. Her hands dragged at his shoulders and her belly surged up like a turbulent sea, whipped by the tidal waves of passion and fanned but he winds of lust. A fierce storm began in her body and enveloped her lover, the bed, the whole room until reality seemed to be broken and buffeted and scattered before the harsh and raging hurricane. Her vision dimmed, her hearing faded, she was left with only the single sensation of lust, turning through the core of her body like a tornado.

  Gibbs responded, he had to respond, for he, too, was caught up in this raging storm. Falling into the demanded rhythm, he began to hump faster, adding a degree of velocity to each ensuing stroke, accelerating steadily and smoothly, until his massive dick was fairly flying in and out of her smoking hole. Now he, too, was a part of the storm. His great iron-hard dick was like a lightning rod, drawing the electric flashes from her inner heavens and channeling them down his stalk; grounding the current in his scrotum. Fires flared up and the earth shifted; avalanches of sensation tumbled from the peaks of feeling and seminal seas billowed up, enveloping the ships of moderation.

  Marla matched him stroke for stroke, jamming her nubile loins hard down as he plunged in and rotating her hips as he withdrew. Her pussy sucked hard upon his cock, making soft, moist sounds, trying to draw him ever deeper into her belly. He could feel her cunt wring his dick like a wet hand, seeking to milk him.

  Hiking his ass higher, he changed the angle so that the full length of his fat prick ran directly across her swollen love bud on every dynamic plunge, adding a new dimension to the thrill.

  It brought her to the peak.

  Clinging to him desperately, Marla sought to prolong the ultimate thrill; to wait for him, too, to achieve the highest point of sensation and tumble from the heights along with her in simultaneous fall.

  "I can't wait," she gasped. "Come... come with me... fill me with your hot cream..."

  Gibbs moaned and slammed his raging rod savagely up her pussy. The bulging head banged violently against the neck of her womb and suddenly he had exploded. His knob seemed to go off like a bomb and the over heated girl felt her cunt fill to the brim with his scalding load.

  "Yesyesyes!" she cried, letting her own climax surge forth to mingle with his. Long, lateral waves of bliss ran across her belly and, centering in her cunt, broke upon the shores of release. Her steaming juices poured out around his spurting cock as he shot a second, then a third powerful geyser into her hole.

  Gibbs, spent, sank down upon her.

  Marla slowly stirred beneath him, working off the final spasms of her ecstasy onto his diminishing prick.

  "Oh, good... so good..." she murmured.

  Gibbs grunted a wordless reply.

  She held him close with arms and legs, drawing him to the cup of her belly with the hooks of her thighs, wanting him to remain there even now that the act was completed; savouring the milder delights now that the fury of the moment had so delightfully been spent.

  That was when the door burst open and the two men rushed in.

  Marla stared at them past Gibbs' shoulder, confused and startled.

  And the flashbulbs went off, flash, flash, blinding her in this moment of utter dismay...

  CHAPTER TWO

  The telephone was ringing in his apartment as James Blackburn ushered the redheaded girl down the corridor towards his door. He heard the phone and he was pretty sure that it was his, but he didn't hurry. In fact, he slowed his pace a bit, because he could imagine no telephone summons which could prove of more immediate interest than entertaining this slender little delight he'd just met in The King's Head Public House. He didn't think that she would relish any interference, either, because she seemed the type that knew why a man invited a girl to his apartment. Blackburn assumed, and hoped, that the girl had accepted his invitation for the same reason by which he'd offered it. It seemed a reasonable sort of assumption, for, if he were any judge, she suffered from neither modesty or celibacy.

  When he slowed his pace, she moved a step ahead of him, giving him the opportunity to study her charms from behind. She was small and slender, but softly curved, wearing a silk blouse of some sort which left her back bare and, truth be known, didn't conceal much of her tits, either. In fact, for a moment or two at the bar, it hadn't concealed her tits at all. She'd leaned forward to accept a light for her cigarette and one of those deliciously plump mounds had popped right out, rosy and ripe, almost falling into his hand. She'd ignored the exposure long enough to light her cigarette, then tucked the errant globe back inside her blouse with a casual manner which implied that such revelations were not an unknown thing.

  "That's a nice blouse, Blackburn had said.

  "Thank you. My husband gave it to me."

  "Oh," he said, disappointed. "You're married, are you? Is your husband meeting you here?"

  "Not likely. I walked out on him this morning."

  "What an unfortunate fellow he is."

  She smiled saucily, knowing a compliment when she heard one and crossing her trim legs on the bar stool She had a pretty, pixyish sort of face with a few delightful freckles sprinkled across her nose and a mane of heavy golden-red hair tumbling in casual disarray.

  She said, "My husband is a real bastard, you know."

  "I didn't know that. Fact is, I don't even know your husband."

  "Oh. Well, you see, I found out he was having it off with another woman. That's why I walked out on him, to tell you the truth. This horrible woman rents a room in our house, you see, and all the while that I've been out working to help with the household expenses, my terrible husband has been giving the lodger plenty of it. So you can't really blame me for deserting him, huh?"

  "Certainly not."

  "Only now I don't have anywhere to live." Blackburn digested that.

  "I expect I'll have to sleep on the streets tonight," she continued, looking at him questioningly.

  "How dreadful," he said.

  Then he snapped his fingers.

  "Say! I've just had a marvelous idea. Why don't you stay at my place?"

  "Really? Do you have room?"

  "Yes. I'd be glad to have you as my guest."

  "All right, then," she said. Then she giggled. "It will serve my husband right, cheating bastard that he is."

  "Good heavens! You don't think I have designs on your marvelous little body, do you?" Blackburn said.

  "Oh, don't you? Well, that's as may be, for all I know you're a sex fiend or a rapist or something, but I can't say as I care, because whatever happens to me will just serve my husband right."

  So, with that conversation in mind, James Blackburn thought it a fair assumption that he was going to enjoy the evening...

  "That your phone?" Susan asked, as they approached the door.

  Blackburn fumbled for his keys, which were already in his hand, saying, "Damn, I can never manage to find my keys." The phone rang and rang and he fumbled and fumbled. Then the phone stopped ringing and he said, "Ah, here we are."

  "It's stopped, now," Susan said.

  "Ah well, that's life," he told her, stoically, and he opened the door and let her into his apartment. They went into the living room, a big chamber with a marble fireplace and tall bookcases along one wall and a bay window. There was a well stocked bar in the corner and a polar bear skin mg on the floor. Susan sat down, crossing her legs and smiling at him.

  "Would you like a drink?" he inquired, moving toward the bar but looking back and not failing to notice that, by crossing her legs, Susan had revealed a great expanse of bare thigh and just the barest hint of the silken wedge of her panties. They were red panties, he noticed.

  "Yes, please."

  "Whisky?"

  "Sure. Whatever."

  That didn't sound as if she were much of a drinker, Blackburn thought, whereupon he poured her a very strong drink, disguising the potency with
ice and, although the thought of such blasphemy saddened him, ginger ale. He brought the drinks back and sat beside her on the couch. She sipped, wrinkling her nose and clicking her teeth against the rim of the glass. Her teeth protruded slightly, just enough to give her mouth a sexy, pouting appearance. "That's good," she said. "My husband doesn't let me drink whisky. He says it's bad for me, but I think he's just too cheap to buy it. He makes me drink light ales when we go to the pub. But I bet he buys whisky for that nasty girl who lodges with us. I'm glad I walked out on him."

  "You certainly had just cause," said Blackburn, sliding a bit closer along the seat.

  "I figure I've got cause for anything I do, don't you? I mean, fair is fair. If he cheats on me, I guess I'm entitled to cheat on him, huh?"

  "Oh, quite."

  "Trouble is..." she paused, taking another sip of whisky and regarding Blackburn across the rim of the glass, her eyes quizzical and faintly amused. "Trouble is, I don't really know very many men. That's why I didn't have anywhere to go tonight. Except you, James..."

  "Yes, you know me."

  "I don't suppose you would want to help me get even with that nasty husband of mine?"

  "Well," said Blackburn.

  "I mean, it wouldn't have to be like a love affair or anything. It would just be doing me a favour, sort of, if you see what I mean."

  "Ay, yes. Irrefutable logic there."

  "Unless you wouldn't like to.."

  "I could bear it."

  Susan giggled and drank.

  "You might even enjoy it, huh?" she said.

  "Possible."

  She turned towards him, legs still crossed so that his gaze rebounded up her thighs. Blackburn downed his drink and set the glass on the floor. Susan slid easily into his arms and he kissed her on the lips. Her mouth was tense for a moment, then her soft lips parted and she responded eagerly to his oral caress. He worked his lips against hers and then ran his tongue slowly and sensually into her mouth. It fired the girl instantly and she began sucking avidly on his tongue as he darted and coiled it within her oral chasm. Her own tongue fluttered to life, twining with his and then darting into his mouth; moving back and forth with his, from mouth to mouth in an alternating current which charged them both and sparked to greater voltage through the mutual transformer of their coupled lips.

  Blackburn moved his hand behind her golden maned head, his fingers twisting through her hair, and her arms encircled his shoulders.

  She squirmed up against him and he could feel the twin cones of her bra-less breasts branding his chest. She had begun to breathe heavily, almost panting into his open mouth, while her whole lithe little body began to vibrate against him. He drew back finally, but she impatiently pushed her face after his, not wanting the kiss to end. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted, her face twisted into a mask of passion so that she looked totally different than she had before older and more depraved.

  "Ummm. Ummm." she said, urging him to kiss her again. He did so, and this time it was her hot tongue which instigated the probing. The tip unfurled against the roof of her mouth and delved into his inner cheeks, sending darts of sparks of sensation flashing through him. Now Blackburn, too, was panting and their heavy breathing billowed together like warm fronts creating a sexual storm.

  Looking down past her tilted face, Blackburn was pleased to see that her squirmings had once again caused her blouse to gape and that one rosy tipped titty was poking free. It looked so appetizing that he licked his lips which meant, of course, that he was also licking Susan's lips, since their mouths were greedily feeding upon each other.

  He brought his hand down from behind her head and cupped her pear-shaped tit gently.

  "Oooo," she said, squirming, and her nipple instantly surged out in a rigid point against his palm. Blackburn squeezed the taut mound and rolled the stiff tip in his fingertips. Then he pushed her straying blouse down further, so that both breasts were exposed, and using both hands he began feeling her tits passionately. Pushing the twin globes together, he swept his thumbs to and fro across the tingling tips.

  Inspired to incandescent passion, the sexy redhead shifted sinuously against him, throwing one leg over his and working her crotch against his hard thigh. He could feel the wet warmth of her pussy through her panties and through his trousers as her vulva rubbed over him.

  She moved her face away from his, as if she no longer needed his kiss, now that she was being pleased by the caress of his hands and thigh.

  Blackburn was forced back along the couch as she pressed against him, and she moved over his reclining form, working her crotch luxuriously on his leg, her tits hanging over him like fruit ripe and ready to be plucked and savoured. He was handling her breasts roughly now, pulling and digging at the firm flesh, feeling her wildly trembling above him as she yielded without reservation to the tactile thrill of physical contact.

  She threw her head back and moved her shoulders; did something with her hands and the blouse came completely free, leaving her lean torso naked. She shifted from side to side, pivoting from the hips in serpentine elation and acceptance of his caress; sliding her tits through his hands. She moved again and he heard the rasp of a zipper. Her skirt fell open, exposing her red-pantied loins. The dark triangle of her pubic mound was plainly visible through the sheer material and the crotch-band was dark with the damp flow of her overheated quim. She had to move away from him in order to take the skirt off, and she gave a little snort of impatience at the necessity of separating. Blackburn waited, flat on his back now, with his tumescent organ rising above his belly, hauling the material of his trousers up in a taut, stretched lump. He wondered if he, too, should undress, then decided to wait; to let her do it. Susan, kneeling, drew her panties slowly down and removed them from her feet. Her pubic hair was the same tawny bronze as the hair on her head, Blackburn noticed, gazing down the length of his body. She looked at him with an impish smile.

  "Do you like me?" she asked.

  It was rhetorical and she didn't await an answer. She moved up again, straddling his body, one knee on either flank. When she reached her former position, Blackburn reached up to caress her again, but she kept advancing, an excited grin on her face. Her belly heaved up before his face. Her tight little ass lowered and he found himself staring directly at her bushy, wet vulva. The labia were parted and slick with juice, while the clitoris jutted prominently out, eager for attention.

  "You want to tongue it, don't you?" she said.

  Blackburn hadn't thought about it, but he had to admit it was an attractive idea and he found her lack of inhibition and false shyness refreshing.

  "Would you like me to?"

  "Oooooh, yes. Yes, please."

  He placed a hand on either of her straddling thighs and raised his head. She began to shudder with delight even before he touched her, and the pink lips of her pussy fluttered and parted further. He could see the darker inner flesh, streaked with bands and ribbons of cunt juice, and his mouth began to water.

  But, never a man to rush things unnecessarily, Blackburn hesitated at the last moment, content to enjoy the visual stimulation and the joys of anticipation and expectation for the moment. He smiled at the girl's impatience, as she rammed her belly out and twisted her hips. She made that impatient, demanding sound again, "Ummmm. Ummmm," urging him to proceed. For an instant he thought of her husband and wondered how that gentleman could ever find the energy to make love to the lodger when he had this bundle of wanton desires to satisfy. Her husband must be a most potent fellow, he thought. But then he wondered it the reverse might not be true; if Susan's demands had not been the motivation which drove him into the more easily satisfied arms of another woman. Well, it hardly seemed important.

  "Ooooh, if you don't hurry up, I'm going to catch fire," Susan warned him. "I am. My pussy is going to simply burst into flames, honest."

  Blackburn could almost believe that was the literal truth, for his face was being warmed by proximity to her vulva, just as if he were star
ing, at close range, into the bars of an electric fire.

  Pushing his tongue out, he touched the curled tip lightly against her love bud.

  "Oh," she said. Her body went rigid and her big eyes opened wide and round. She seemed surprised and bemused at the extent of the sensation which coursed through her. Blackburn gently slid his tongue around, coiling it over and across her clitoris with broad, sweeping strokes, while she held perfectly still, as if turned to stone. But it was igneous rock, formed in the tremendous fires of primordial lust, and at her core she was all molten fire.

  Having tongued her love bud to a state of stiff and tingling urgency, Blackburn began to suck on it. He closed his lips around the protruding digit of hot flesh and greedily mouthed her while flicking his tongue tip back and forth. At this, Susan squealed with rapture and her rigid state collapsed, a stone statue exposed to a blast furnace. She began to buck and lunge, riding his face, her lean thighs closing over his head and her belly driving in and out. The thrusting motion caused him to lose contact with her clit, and her gash rubbed over his lips. He titled his head and began running his tongue along the parted crack, brushing over the outer lips at first and then delving into her slippery hole as far as possible. He sucked on her cunt and her cunt sucked on his tongue. Beside herself with wild lust, Susan reached down with both hands and held her twat open wide, spreading the coral-pink labia so that he could lick and suck further up the soaking channel. Blackburn felt as if she were trying to pull his whole head up into her smouldering gash, and he lashed his taut tongue around in the swampy hole with rare energy, while heavy ribbons of cunt juice flowed from her and coated his busily slurping lips. As she rhythmically looped her crotch back and forth, he alternated between pussy and clitoris; between tonguing and lapping, giving her the full range of the labia and lingual delights and, several times, adding the dental as he nibbled lightly on her swollen and throbbing bud..

 

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