Game of Throbs Complete Series (Books 1-3)

by Piquette Fontaine

  At any rate, the beach around us was deserted enough that we didn't think we would get caught, and so it was that I ended up dipping down beneath the surface, opening my mouth wide, and giving my man an undersea blow job, the saltiest oral sex I'd ever performed, mind you, an act so intimate and so devastating that I could scarcely even believe it had taken place after the fact.

  And that was only the first half of the day...

  We still had an entire afternoon to kill together in whatever seedy and magical ways we saw fit. Admittedly, the two of us had become fairly experienced day drinkers over the course of our vacation, and so accordingly there was enough alcohol in our systems to get us going at just about any hour of day.

  At some point, the two of us found ourselves in a luxurious steam room together, sweating intensely, our breathing hard and hot, and the circumstances just such that eroticism couldn't possibly be far behind at all. The two of us had the entire place to ourselves, and were wearing nothing at all but a couple of towels wrapped around our middles, my nipples just barely concealed and his erection bulging fiercely through the fabric as we leered across the wooden room at our steamy selves.

  And suddenly, the next thing you know, the two of us were on one another, wrapped together in each other's arms, making out like newlyweds after so long together, his lips on my neck and his tongue all over me, getting me so worked up I could hardly stand it in my lightheaded arousal.

  Then, in as sexy a manner as was humanly possible, he took me from behind, in what might have been one of the most brutal and animalistic fucks I've ever indulged myself in. There was an extra layer of taboo about it from the fact that the two of us kept our damn towels on throughout the entire ordeal, him whipping his cock out from beneath the plush fabric, bending me over, and penetrating me though the opening in his scant wardrobe. He slammed viciously into my bent over body, my hands on the bench as he pushed and heaved into my body, my breasts flying free of the towel as well as he screwed me, swinging like two fleshy pendulums as I tried to suppress my screams of passion.

  And then, if that wasn't bad enough, the two of us fucked again upon our return to the room that night, me climbing up on top of him and bouncing up and down on top of his cock like it was a damn pogo stick, our genitals apparently inexhaustible for the extent of our stay, and each hard, wet lay more agonizing than the last.

  And in the present that morning, as I reflected fondly on all these encounters, growing hotter and hotter by the minute, I began to feel as though I wanted today's miscellaneous sexual events to start unfolding in as timely a manner as possible.

  I gasped suddenly, having hit a sweet spot while fingering myself to these glorious memories, and a shiver of pleasure ran down along my body. It wasn't quite an orgasm, exactly, but a sort of warning flag, a tingling that let me know I was good and ready, and that I couldn't possibly resist the return of my husband's flesh for a moment longer.

  I'd let him sleep long enough, I decided, and it was due time for him to get back around to doing his duty of servicing me as I needed to be serviced. I decided to wake him as lightly as I possibly could, easing him into consciousness in as gentle a manner as I could conceive. I put my hand on the side of his slightly wet face, and allowed my fingers to go trickling down along him like raindrops. They slid down along the contours of his skull, following down along his neck, and trickling along his chest.

  My palm practically burned as I swept across his sweet abdomen, and as great was the temptation to plunge my fingers beneath the covers and begin masturbating him, I somehow resisted the impulse. Instead, I swept up on top of his bulge and very lightly stroked him through the covers, not abruptly seizing him, but making my presence known.

  I looked over at him, in order to gage his reaction, and though his eyes were closed, I could tell he was beginning to stir, twitching lightly, and slight groans of pleasure issuing faintly from his throat.

  I took things a step further, then, leaning in, and pressing my lips onto his neck, running hot, wet kisses up and down all along him, savoring the taste of his flesh more than ever in its moist, salty state, craving his tongue on mine, but remaining patient in my efforts at rousing him to consciousness. I allowed my kisses to sweep gently down, down, down, drifting from his neck to his chest, suckling playfully for a moment on his nipple, and sinking my teeth ever so lightly into him.

  Then, I worked my way back up to his neck for a bit, then nibbled on his ear, and it was this last bit that finally did the trick of stirring him back to life. Blinking hard into consciousness, he turned very promptly over to me and pulled me into himself, beginning to kiss me as though he'd been waiting around since the night before just to get things rolling once again.

  The next thing I knew he was on top of me, kissing more passionately than ever, and holding my body so damn close to him that I thought he might crush me in his grip. I savored the fact of his cock pressed up against me, his erection stiffening with the flow of blood and curving deep against my thigh, so hot and so sumptuous that I thought I might melt right there on the spot.

  And as though intuiting my sweet torment, he began to run his kisses down, down, down along my body, sliding from my lips and beginning to suckle on my neck, peeling his tongue up against me, nibbling on my flesh, and causing me to moan with sheer, splendid delight. Down, down, down he trickled, rolling his tongue around me in laps, his head sinking, sinking, sinking, so that my body positively trembled with anticipation for what I knew he had in mind.

  His lips were on my breasts now, sucking on them as though nursing on their immensity, rolling his tongue around each nipple and sinking his teeth into them, much as I had done to him, and I whimpered with delight at it, feeling more love at his touch than I could ever recall throughout the entire extent of our marriage.

  He smothered himself in my cleavage, and dripped further, further down along me, putting his lips to my navel now, and kissing me passionately there. There was something I found remarkably and splendidly intimate about this act in particular, and my spine began to arch with each lash of his tongue across my flesh, my buttocks clenching and my toes curling as I did my damnedest to stay in control of my senses.

  And now, his tongue was sliding down, down, down through the clean-shaven swath of my pubic triangle, his face was angling down between my trembling thighs, and my eyes went wide as I gasped up toward the ceiling. His lips pressed firmly up against those of my twat, and his tongue crept into me, as he sensually kissed my vagina, eating me out in a hot, agonizing manner.

  It was almost entirely too much for me to handle first thing in the morning like this, and I felt as though I could cry from the beauty of it as the sensations coursed through my body. He seemed to actually enjoy being so deeply buried in my muff as he was, his nostrils flaring as he snorted and inhaled me, his tongue rolling along through the wet pink folds of my cunt as though it were the most delectable thing he'd ever had the pleasure of consuming.

  My pussy was putty in his lips as he sucked and nibbled and allowed his saliva to roll inside me, and my body very transparently displayed the degree of agony to which he was subjecting me with the force of his love. He drilled so deep into my body that I thought he would strike oil in there, and my entire anatomy squirmed and twisted across the sheets in response, my legs wrapping tightly around his bobbing head as he sucked me to my core, pulling him deeper and deeper into myself with every long, wet lap, and the sensations coming to a sweet, splendid head.

  I came, hard as hell, bending my body to the ceiling and moaning at the top of my lungs. I thought I might go blind as my nerves flashed with delight and as the sparks flashed yellow before my eyes, pleasure consuming me, knocking me out, almost, first thing in the morning, causing my head to spin so dizzily that I wouldn't have been surprised at all if I'd wound up rolling clean off the bed by the time all was said and done.

  And finally, after several agonizing moments of this intense pleasure, I began to recede back from the edge, to drift do
wn, down, down, all the way back down to earth, my body settling back down onto the covers, and my legs unclenching to allow my splendid lover's skull some freedom of movement.

  Very slowly, Adam pulled his face from my cunt, the lips of my pussy resettling gently back into their normal state of being as he reeled his mouth away from me, and my breath intense as I struggled to settle back down.

  My heart beat like a damn drum as he climbed back up onto me, his hard cock once again sweeping across me as he clambered back along the bed, and the taste of my own pussy on his lips as the two of us continued to kiss an almost heavenly thing.

  We made out for some time like this, me all the while enjoying the fact of growing inebriated on his warm, luscious breath as we swapped spit, until at last it dawned on me that, after a performance like that, it would only be polite of me to reciprocate his efforts...

  I pulled away from him, leering into his eyes, and my nostrils continuing to flare, as I hoped to God that he understood the lurid intent behind my actions as I wrapped my hands around his.

  He seemed to intuit my meaning plainly enough, and I slowly peeled him up from off of the sheets, the two of us pulling our naked bodies from beneath the balled up blankets, and pacing in the direction of the bathroom.

  The hot water of the shower felt absolutely glorious as it came splashing down along our entwined bodies, melting away all the filth of sleep and getting me so worked up with heat that it felt like a repeat of yesterday's steam room incident.

  Adam stood behind me for some time, his arms looped tightly around my abdomen, pulling me close into himself, and kissing my neck sensually from behind. I closed my eyes, and allowed the sensations to course through me as he did so, wrapping my arms around his neck, and savoring the feeling of his long, hard shaft being ground up and down between the crack of my ass, not penetrating me, just resting there, squeezing in and out, and causing my thighs to tremble with want as the moments ticked along.

  At some point, his hands slid upward, and he cupped my breasts in his grip. His fingers dug deep, deep, deep into my flesh, causing me to moan with passion, and the occasional squeezing of my nipples causing my head to spin wildly.

  Finally, after so much of this, it seemed to verge on cruel that I wasn't repaying his favor of oral sex, and when at last his touch grew too sweet for me to withstand, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

  I turned back around to face my lover, and slowly allowed my body to sink down, down, down, crouching onto the floor of the shower, and allowing my face to become eye level with his crotch. Then I extended a hand for him, wrapping my fingers around him, and proceeding to work the skin of his shaft. I pulled it gingerly up, up, up along him, yanking it up to his engorged tip, and then gradually pushed it back down, down, down, holding the skin taut at his base, and allowing the sensations to mount.

  He sighed, then, as I released him, letting the skin settle into place once again, and I began to stroke him more rhythmically. I pushed and pumped and worked my wrist along his erection, wanking him steadily beneath the trickling spray of the shower, and all the while savoring the fact of him growing larger and stiffer in the shifting confines of my grip.

  When at last he seemed adequately hot and bothered for it, I peered up at him with innocent eyes, licking my lips seductively, and parting my jaws. Then I slowly, slowly, slowly pushed my face forward, allowing my lips to melt around the immensity of his cock, downing him whole, inch by inch by inch of his sheer immensity hooking deep into my windpipe, his tip at last touching down against the very back of my throat.

  And when at last my skull was pressed up against his pelvis, I felt a shiver run through his body from head to toe, and the effect was one that turned me on like you wouldn't believe. I began, very slowly, to suck him off, peeling my lips back along him, pulling, pulling, pulling up to his tip, and building up an immense, dreadful suction. Then I snapped my lips off of him, the suction dissipating in a cool blast, and pushed back down, slurping him up yet again, and slowly nodding my head into a steady, agonizing rhythm of torment.

  I put my hands on his ass for support as I continued to suck and to bob up against his body, and I loved feeling his buttocks clench with pleasure as I progressed in my efforts, savoring how greatly I was tormenting him with my love, and wondering all the while how I might go about escalating the degree of my sweet cruelty.

  Then, after so long of nodding in this way, I decided to do something I'd never really attempted before. I ceased the bobbing of my head, the continually jousting against the back of my throat, and instead I consumed him wholly, deep-throating him in the most genuine of senses, pushing my lips all the way up to his pubes and then holding myself there.

  Adam moaned with sheer contentment at this point, and I felt closer, more intimate than ever as I remained for some time with my face buried in his flesh in this manner, my eyes closed and my tongue rolling along his shaft as I struggled not to gag on his sheer size and immensity.

  “Ohhhhhhh, Godddddd,” he moaned, as I continued to lick him and to choke on his hugeness, and after so long of this, a good five or ten minutes of me just swallowing him, in essence, I pulled back away, regurgitating his fact cock, and loving the fact of it being so thoroughly coated in my fluids.

  From here, I turned around, smiling up at him as I spun my face in the opposite direction, and bent my body over, splaying myself out for him, my body trembling but ready to be taken and pounded like there was no damn tomorrow.

  Accordingly, then, my gorgeous husband mounted and fucked me good, sliding his huge wang up my pussy and drilling into my body like a machine. I would never, ever, ever get tired of this, I knew, as he smashed me forward toward the faucet of the tub, practically knocking me over with each devastating thrust, and at last heaving inside with a final, deadly blow, and ejaculating into my body.

  At last, when I thought I could handle no more, my beautiful husband pulled out of me, picking me up, and wrapping me up in his arms.

  God almighty, what a beautiful start to the day, and the pleasures I would experience were only beginning to unfold...

  Chapter 2

  At this point in the day, and in the vacation itself, for that matter, I was so sexed up and filled with happy chemicals, both the dopamine of being screwed so often and the less natural traces of alcohol in my system, that I more or less went about at my husband's side in a daze. I really felt as though I had no earthly notion as to the itinerary, remembering what it was we were doing only just before arriving at our destination each time.

  We had one of the best lunches of the entire stay later on that morning, everything cooked to perfection, leaving no doubt in my mind whatsoever, if, somehow, there had still been any possible doubt to clear away, that the two of us were vacationing in the warm, inviting lap of luxury.

  Then, that afternoon, our destination was a couple's massage, an act which I anticipated as seeming sensual and intimate, but whose true extent I would not genuinely discern until the massage itself had begun to get underway.

  The scene, even initially, had the same sort of taboo eroticism about it that being in the steam room together had possessed. You know, my husband and I, both ass naked in a public place, a scant little towel wrapped around his wang and my pussy while strangers poked and prodded at every other visible inch of our bodies. I pictured him, getting a hard-on as his masseuse kneaded up the flesh of his back, the grinding of his penis uncomfortably against the table beneath his weight with him having no means of releasing himself all throughout the course of events, until afterward he was so pent up with sexual frustration that he would have to give me the pounding of a lifetime to relieve himself.

  And then it occurred to me that I should be prepared for this eventuality in the event that things did go south (wink, wink) in this manner, and I began to perform Kegel exercises as I laid there on the massage table, readying my pussy, getting it nice and tight and strong in order to best please him once he slid inside me.

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p; And that was when I saw the two masseuses walk through the door, and my eyes went wide as sin with equal parts terror and sheer, splendid delight.

  Who should it be, of all the people on this damn island, but the man I mentioned earlier on having an almost devastating crush on, the man I'd been eyeballing nearly every time I came across him, his dark brown skin and his penetrating eyes, all wrapped up in a white masseuse uniform that stood out with blazing contrast against his smooth, deep flesh. At his side, then, was a female beauty of a similar skin tone, her face like that of a model's and her petite body clearly exquisite beneath her own cotton uniform. They were, quite clearly, physical counterparts to my husband and I in so many ways, with the contrast in our skin tones creating such beautiful and lurid fantasies in my mind that I could barely even stand it.

  I could feel myself, as the man I had secret and very sexual feelings for sauntered up to my table, getting very, very wet down below, so much so that it was becoming uncomfortable, and I decided right then and there that I was either the luckiest woman alive, or that I would not possibly survive this massage intact.

  I held my breath, bracing myself in anticipation, and before I knew it the man's hands were upon me, pressing into me, and touching me in ways that would have been considered almost perversely intimate in any other circumstances. I was, quite honestly, swooning for this beautiful bastard, my eyelids fluttering dreadfully as his fingers crept along my quivering spine, and his touch affecting me on so many different levels that I could hardly stand it.

  I looked over, then, and saw my husband being kneaded up by his own kinky vixen, her slight body heaving with effort as she swept along his body, pushing into him, so that I began to imagine his theoretical boner from before, and almost felt sorry for him as his cock was forced deeper, harder into the massage table.