A Taste Of It

by Karla Francis

  She paused, elevated, and pearly cunt juice trickled down his rod as, like a mighty lance, it jutted from her. Then she sank, feeding her pussy on prick, and rose again to leave the stalk swept clean but glistening, only to once again cascade down the shaft with a heavy flow. Twisting her hips and heaving her belly in and out, she altered the angle, using his cock like a crowbar on the fulcrum of her clitoris, prying and wedding and levering as she struggled to break open the vault of her body; to crack the safe which contained the jewels of orgasm.

  Blackburn felt his fluids gathering.

  "Soon," he rasped, a warning and a promise.

  Susan nodded her head vigorously and squatted all the way down his stalk.

  "Oh, yes! I want it!" she cried. "Shoot that hot, thick cream up me, James!"

  His mouth opened to speak, but the words were cut off, his throat seemed as tight and as hard as his cock. He howled like a wolf, his head wobbled and a great rushing sound filled his ears. The tremor of his spermaries passed on through the fabric of his being, filling every nerve and muscle with a roar of impending release.

  His balls exploded.

  A great squirt of thick sap coursed up his stalk and burst violently from his cock head, pouring upwards and defying gravity as he emptied into her womb.

  Susan gasped as she felt the massive force of his sudden ejaculation. She felt her hips rise up, lifted by the power of his geyser, and for one blissful instant she fully expected to be lifted completely from him on that hosing stream, to rise all the way to the ceiling on a geyser of boiling spunk. Then the spurt stopped. She slid down his pole again, only to be lifted once more as his second burst erupted within her greedy snatch. Not quite as powerful as the initial blast, the second ejaculation only lifted her halfway up his cock where, suspended, she let her own climax flood forth in great waves of ecstasy.

  Bouncing merrily up and down, she milked his cock to the dregs and emptied her own loins upon him.

  Then, sighing contentedly, she dismounted.

  Blackburn was amazed to find that his cock, although drained, was still standing proudly upright. He marveled at the fact, and decided it must have something to do with the position and effort; that, because he had been underneath, and she had done most of the work, he was not finished despite his furious eruption.

  Susan, too, noticed his rampant state.

  "Didn't you finish?" she asked.

  "Well, yes. But I guess my dick doesn't know it. You must have hammered him into a state of amnesia."

  She giggled.

  "My husband always shrinks right up as soon as I milk a load out of him," she said.

  Blackburn thought fast and deviously.

  "He probably manages to screw the lodger more than once, though, don't you think?"

  He instantly saw that that was the wrong thing to say, for Susan scowled blackly.

  "That would mean she was more exciting than I am," she said, pouting.

  "Never!"

  She sat on the far end of the couch, looking grumpy, and his still-hard dong stood between them like a barrier, a massive symbol of recrimination.

  "Er... By the way, who is your husband?"

  "Trevor," she said. "Trevor Smith."

  Blackburn was thinking faster than ever.

  "Why, I know Trevor, he said.

  "Really?" She was mildly interested.

  "Why, sure. A scrawny fellow with a big dick."

  "Yeah, that's him," she said, forgetting that it was her own description.

  "Sure. Old Trevor, know him well. He drinks in the pub with us. I never made the connection between you. Of course, he never talks about you, being a gentleman and not wanting to hurt his wife's reputation. The only one he ever talks about is... errr... what is her name, I forget... the girl who lodges with you?"

  "Janie?" she said.

  Blackburn snapped his fingers.

  "That's the name. Janie. Yes, Trevor is always talking about her in the pub."

  "Why, that swine."

  "Oh, he never compliments her," Blackburn hastened to say. "No, he has no respect for her, the way he does for you. He just tells everyone about all the things they do when they make love... While you're out working, earning money to help support the household..."

  "Oh, the pig! The bastard!"

  "The sod," added Blackburn.

  "What... what does he say?"

  "Oh, I don't pay much attention, you know. I'm not one to listen to gossip. But... let me think... I remember something. Now what was it?" Susan was staring at him and Blackburn eyed her covertly, pretending to be concentrating on his power of recall.

  "Oh, yes. Trevor was saying the other day what a great blowjob this... errr... Janie, yes, what a great blowjob Janie gave him."

  Susan's eyes sparked fire.

  "Why, that rotten fiend!" she exclaimed.

  "Yes, he is a rotter.

  "I never knew she was a cocksucker as well as all the rest," Susan said.

  "It would appear so. And, according to Trevor, a very good one, as well."

  Fury showed on Susan's face.

  "To think that, while I'm out hard at work, that horrible strumpet is sucking on my husband's big prick!"

  "Yes. It's a sad state of affairs."

  "Trevor certainly deserves whatever I do to get even with him, doesn't he?"

  "Oh, yes. But I'm afraid you'll never be able to balance the scales, my dear."

  Susan squinted suspiciously at him.

  "Why not?"

  "Well, I mean to say, that is, errr... I mean, you got even with him for sucking Janie's cunt and you got even for fucking her, but there's still a blowjob that hasn't been avenged."

  "And?"

  "Well, surely you aren't the sort of lewd woman who would give blow jobs?"

  "I certainly wouldn't. Except... well, if it was strictly in order to get even with my husband..."

  She eyed Blackburn speculatively, tilting her head so she could see his face past the looming barrier of his cock.

  "I mean, don't think I'd enjoy it or anything nasty like that, but if it was just a case of having to do it so I could avenge my honour... well..."

  "That, of course, is a different thing."

  "Yes, it is, isn't it."

  The anger had dissolved from her countenance, replaced by a more subtle expression. She tilted her head back, so that the head of his cock stood between them. It was hard to tell if she was looking at his face or at his cock, but then, seeing that her eyes had crossed, Blackburn knew what the wronged wife was considering.

  He said. "You mustn't think that I'm the sort of man who would allow any old skag to suck his cock either. But, in a case like this, I can see that you have little choice but to take an eye for an eye, so to speak."

  "Would you mind horribly if I... you know...?"

  "Well... I expect I could bear it, since it would be in a good and just cause."

  "You're very kind."

  "I try to be."

  She leaned closer. Her breath billowed against his cock, hot air and hot meat steaming. The pink tip of her tongue flickered across her lower lip and a look of absolute fascination came into her eyes. They were still slightly crossed, mutually focused on the head of his cock.

  "Oooooh, I'm going to hate doing this," she whispered.

  "I know you are, my dear. Can't be helped. One must admire your bravery."

  She showed him a brave and determined smile.

  "Don't look at me," she said. "I wouldn't want anyone to see me doing this..."

  Bravely, she descended upon his prick...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Susan kissed the tip of Blackburn's cock.

  Tentatively, eyes closed, she brushed her lips lightly over the flaring knob. Blackburn was obediently pretending not to watch, willing to forsake the visual pleasure for the more crucial oral part, but the minute her lips had touched his dick the girl seemed to lose her modest reluctance. She said, "I don't really know how to do it, you know," but he had th
e impression that she wasn't asking for directions so much as affirming the virginity of her mouth for, without waiting, she kissed him again.

  "It's not nearly as bad as I thought," she said, looking rather surprised. Then she shot him a sharp glance. "Not that I like it," she hastened to add.

  Settling down, she covered the swollen head of his dick with a series of fluttering kisses. She was holding him buy the root, her little hand curled around the fat shaft and pulling him slightly downwards, against the natural upward angle of a hard-on, so that his bloated dick stood directly upwards like a rivet bolting her face to his loins. Her other hand was idly stroking his swollen balls. She had shifted onto the couch, drawing her legs up and reclining on one hip, so that she was comfortably hovering over him. Her tits hung down, swaying lightly, the nipples starting to stiffen again, and she moved her slick thighs slowly back and forth, massaging her warming cunt by the motion. Blackburn had no idea if she was telling the truth when she claimed to be totally inexperienced in the art of fellatio, but by the fashion in which she approached the act she gave the impression that she was experimenting and learning as she went along. Of course, he realized, that could merely be her method of feigning innocence or, just as likely, the slow build up of a normal technique, whereby she took a gentleman gradually through all the various increasing stages of the act, starting with the labial, moving on to the lingual and the baccal and even, although he winced at the thought, the dental. But he didn't mind one way or the other and was willing to believe whatever she wished him to believe as far as her previous experience, or lack of experience, was concerned. It didn't matter at all if his cock was the first to enter her warm little mouth, or the hundredth, as long as it eventually went in. The sequence was of no importance. He was, so to speak, quite willing to take her at face value...

  She tilted her head from side to side, kissing his knob from various changing angles. Her warm, soft lips, which had been tightly clamped shut at first, began to part slowly and give more lingering and passionate contact. She was breathing steady, but harder, and her breath billowed over his belly and gave a hint of impending storm by the way it affected the barometer of his prick, that marvelous device so well adapted to recording warmth and pressure and predicting earth tremors and volcanic eruptions.

  Her lips had parted quite a bit now, and Blackburn waited expectantly for the sliding sensation of entering her mouth, but then, still apparently learning the way of it, Susan began kissing her way inch by inch down the shaft. Her lips traced a course along the throbbing vein, sending jolts of passion through his body. When she kissed him she also turned her face up and down, so that her lips slip up his rod. Reaching the base of his great stalk, she commenced to kiss his bollocks, covering the hairy sac with fluttering osculations. Her eyes had begun to roll wildly as she became totally intrigued with the task at hand. Pulling her face slightly back, she stuck her tongue out as far as it would go and tapped the tip against his scrotum, then began avidly lapping at the hot ball meat. Her tongue circled and coiled under and over, nearly driving Blackburn up the wall. His thigh muscles began to jump and his loins heaved madly. Susan, finally satiated with ball-lapping, began to work back up the shaft, using her tongue this time, retracing the track that her lips had forged on the descent. Her tongue lashed back and forth like a windscreen wiper, laving his bulging shaft delightfully. Reaching the crown, she spent several lingering moments tonguing the fiery point where the throbbing vein ran into the bifurcated helmet.

  Then she leaned over him and greedily licked at the knob itself. The tip of her tongue pushed into his parted cleft and, with broad, flat strokes, washed the swollen crown. Blackburn was half crazed with sensation. Her slow build-up, tremendously effective but just below the point which would have brought him to climax, had tied him in knots of passion. His cock was so hot it felt numb, a pillar of stone, jerking and bolting; deceived into thinking that ejaculation was forthcoming and confused by the failure. His belly was knotted with tension, almost painful and yet delightful. He wished she would hurry up and get on with it, relieving him of the agony of his overloaded spermaries and yet, at the same time, he didn't want it to end; wanted the bliss of this peak of sensation to be infinitely prolonged. He supposed this feeling was something like that described in the Oriental and Indian books on love craft, which he'd always been too impatient to experiment with.

  Her tongue gave him a spectacularly exciting stroke.

  His cock, as if resigned to the fact that it was never going to be allowed to blow off, emitted a trickle of preliminary fluid. A solitary droplet, pearly and thick, squeezed from the cleft and ran sluggishly down the crown.

  Susan drew back, her eyes wide with fascination. "Ooooo. Look what I've done," she whispered. She watched the heavy drop slide slowly over the ledge of his cockhead and begin to run down the rod.

  Then, whimpering, she stuck her tongue out and, with a long upward stroke, gathered the pearly droplet onto her taste buds. She closed her eyes, letting the nugget of cream run over her tongue as if sampling a fine vintage wine.

  "Oh," she gasped. "Oh, oh."

  He saw her delicate throat work as she swallowed. "Oh, my. It's... It's yummy!"

  His cock knotted savagely; became a cord of leathery fibre, a tube of rawhide. A second drop oozed from the tip and Susan tongued this up immediately, savouring it on her tastebuds for a long time before letting the saline appetizer slip down her throat.

  "Did you... did you come?" she asked, confused by her own fiery sensations.

  "No," he croaked.

  "Will more shoot out when you come?"

  "Plenty more," he rasped, heaving his hips upward with impatience.

  "I... I don't know about these things," she wailed. "Am I supposed to let you come in my mouth?"

  "Yes!"

  "Oooooh! I want to!"

  "Don't talk, suck."

  "Ummmm."

  She lowered her lips to him again. She kissed him directly on the tip of his dick but this time her lips slowly parted around him and, millimetre by millimetre, his cock head slipped into her mouth. She pushed her head down and the angry purple crown was buried in the buccal cavern. Her lips clamped tightly shut behind the ledge, compressing around the thick shaft, with only the knob inside her mouth. She began sucking steadily on that glowing nugget of flesh, turning her head and gulping. She was holding the shaft in both hands, like a baseball bat, while she worried at the head like a dog at the joint of a succulent bone.

  Her cheeks grew hollow as she drew in, then expanded as she, taking the term literally, blew down his cock. But, quick learner that she was, she soon saw that a blowjob was a figurative term and that cocksucking was more graphic. She began sucking vigorously, savouring the delicious cockmeat. Her lips drew on him, her cheeks, deflating, pulled on him and her nimble tongue flashed back and forth beneath his burning knob. His cockhead had expanded so mightily that it filled her mouth now, making contact with both cheeks at the same time, and he saw her cheeks bulge out, delineating the probing contours of the savory slab within.

  Groaning, Blackburn reached down and, placing his hand behind her head, pushed her gently down. Her compressed lips skimmed down his rod and his knob was fed deeply into her mouth. The tip lodged in her throat and she gagged but, game little avenger that she was, she kept at the task. The one manual hint was all that she required and, when he drew his hand away, she began bobbing her head up and down willingly. His long dick ran in and out, through her clamped lips, sheathing itself deeply in her oral scabbard.

  "Unghhh," she moaned, sucking frantically.

  She sucked all the way up the shaft as she drew her face away and bands of steely urgency clamped around his rod. His knob was so swollen that it felt like a hot potato in her mouth, though harder than any potato; perhaps the very same potato that had turned to molten gold in the mouth of greedy King Midas. Susan was as greedy as Midas could ever have been, avaricious for his scalding wad. She began stroking his shaft with h
er fist on the upstroke of her mouth, seeking to hasten his climax; famished for his load.

  His cock head had begun to flow.

  As his semen washed her tongue, she became even more desperate for the feast to follow.

  "Come, come, come," she whimpered, the word muffled on his smoking dork.

  And suddenly her mouth was absolutely filled with burning cream.

  Her eyes opened wide in shock as she experienced the full magnitude of his orgasm and, for a split second, she hesitated. Then, gasping, she slammed her mouth all the way down his stalk so that her nose nestled in his pubic hair and his knob was embedded in her throat; so that his second spurt poured directly into her belly. Gasping for air, she gulped the thick spunk down to make room in her mouth for more, and more was immediately forthcoming as his cock, as last allowed this blessed release, spurted wad after wad of semen from the flaring head.