Me with my head thrown back, and Foster with his cock half in, half out, of my pussy.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded with him.
He slowly started forward again, pushing into me slowly at first before he picked the speed back up.
Soon my moans were back up to par, and Foster was back into his rhythm.
My eyes were closed, and I was too busy focusing on the way his fat cock head rubbed that spot inside of me that made me want to scream in ecstasy to think about anything else.
His hands took hold of my hips as he started to thrust faster. Harder.
His balls started to smack against me, hitting my clit with each thrust of his hips, causing that orgasm that I thought wasn’t going to get there in time to start barreling towards me at a breakneck speed.
I licked my lips as I started to push back at him, reaching between my legs to press my clit with my fingers, working it in slow, circular motions.
Then his fingers started to rub my perineum, and I exploded.
Literally exploded.
I saw stars as my pussy clamped down hard on the intruder inside of me.
He groaned as he, too, started to come.
“Go, Foster! Harder, Foster!” Boris sang.
His cock jerking inside of me as he worked me in slow, short thrusts.
My pussy was still pulsing as he rode me expertly with his cock, hitting just the right place that prolonged my orgasm into something more.
But just as suddenly as it came, it left me.
Panting and sweating.
“That bird…” Foster said from his collapsed state beside me.
His cock was pointed at the ceiling, and his spent release was gathered in the tip of the condom.
He didn’t seem concerned, though.
So I didn’t say anything either.
“The bird is weird,” I said finally.
He snorted. “You can say that again.”
“Boom goes the dynamite!” Boris sang.
Fucker.
Chapter 15
A real best friend makes your family question your sexuality.
-Fact of life
Foster
“At least you didn’t lose your penis in the accident, too,” Blake said helpfully.
I looked over at her and glared.
She giggled and sat up before she started to work my pants loose.
“It’s easier if you take the blade off,” I told her.
So she did.
She’d really been paying attention the other day at the fitting. She’d watched, learned, and comprehended everything that was said and done.
“How do you take a shower?” She asked. “With it on or off?”
I pointed to a pair of crutches in the corner. “Off. And I use the crutches.”
She started removing my prosthesis, and before I knew it, I was laid bare before her.
“You know,” she said, tracing the scar along my lower leg. “This isn’t as small as I thought it’d be. Do you work it out as you would your other leg?”
I nodded. “Yeah. If you don’t use it, you lose it, as my therapist says.”
She nodded and stood up from the bed. “So…how about a sandwich? Then I want to throw a pot.”
I blinked. “Why would you want to throw a pot? Is that something you normally do after making a sandwich?”
She grinned. “No. It’s not even remotely close to what you’re thinking.”
Twenty minute later, I watched in rapture as Blake ‘threw a pot’ as I slipped my leg back into the prosthesis.
However, it wasn’t ‘throwing’ an actual pot. It was making one.
“This is all in the hands.” She demonstrated, putting her whole upper body into shaping the square of clay.
She dipped her hands into the water and came back to it, smoothing out more and more until she had the square of clay into an actual round…thing.
My eyes were glued to the wheel and the clay as it spun.
It was about the size of a large coffee can, and as I watched, she dipped her thumb into the top of it, burrowing out a hole.
“Alright,” she said. “Pull up a chair and come sit down behind me. You can make it from here.”
I did as she asked, placing the kitchen chair directly behind her stool and leaned forward.
“Dip your hands into the water and then place them directly on top of mine,” she explained.
I did.
The clay was surprisingly cold under my hands.
It also felt incredibly weird, but at the same time extraordinarily cool.
“It’s exactly like that scene in Ghost,” I said laughingly.
She snorted. “Except we’re a lot messier, and there’s no way I’ll have sex with you with all this mud all over me.”
I leaned forward and bit her neck, causing her to jump and make the bowl go lopsided.
“Damn, that was looking pretty good, too,” I frowned.
She did something with her fingers, pulling the pot slightly out, and fixed the wobble almost immediately. “There. Fixed.”
I let my hands drop from hers as she got more in depth with the pot, amazed at how she made the pot so tall.
“I never would’ve thought you could make something like that with your hands,” I said thoughtfully, letting my beard rasp against the soft skin of her shoulder.
She shivered.
“It takes practice,” she said breathlessly. “Trust me, I didn’t get this good overnight.”
“No, I didn’t think you did. You’ve got some real talent, though. I didn’t see this stuff at your house at all. What did you do with the pottery that’s finished?” I asked her, drawing a pattern in the mud covering her arm.
She snickered. “My parents’ house. Well, their garage in particular. I have a whole shelf in there filled to the brim with my pottery. I moved it there after I broke up with David, and never moved it to my house.”
“Tell me about him,” I said softly.
She shrugged, body going tense.
“He ruined my life. Gave me hope and then took it all away,” she whispered, taking her hands off the pot and standing up.
Which put her ass in my face.
Not that I was complaining.
She was wearing a t-shirt and panties.
Which meant there wasn’t anything hindering my view because the t-shirt stopped just above her ass.
Her panties were cute, too.
Little pink bows decorated the sides, and lace lined the edges.
They were those cheekie ones that left half of the ass cheeks exposed, which inevitably drew my attention.
My hands met her ass, completely ignoring the fact that I was smearing clay all over her legs and butt cheeks.
“Hey!” She snapped. “Stop that.”
I couldn’t help myself.
I really couldn’t.
“How much longer are you going to play with that pot?” I asked, my dick suddenly impressively hard.
She snickered.
“Couple more minutes, you filthy boy…then you can have me” she tittered, bending over so that she could reach all the way inside of the pot. “Just don’t move and startle me. This is the hard part.”
I did what I was told, hands cupping both thighs as I waited for her to finish.
The whole time, though, I knew that we were about to get dirty.
I’d give her the couple minutes it took to get finished. But once that was done, I was fairly sure we’d be on the ground, going at it in the mud splashes.
And I was right.
***
I’d never slept in the same bed with a woman.
Not for a full night, anyway.
I was a get it done kind of guy.
I didn’t waste time fucking around.
When I was with a woman, I got both of us off quickly, and then split just as fast.
With Blake, though, I found myself excited to do all those things I’d previously refused to do with other women.
Partially, anyway.
My hand was cupping one breast, and my mouth was resting near the top of her head, sharing her pillow.
My other arm was stretched out underneath us both, and was just on the verge of unbearable.
My arm was asleep, and had been for some time if the state of feeling in my appendage was anything to go by.
Reluctantly, I rolled over, withdrawing my arm as carefully as I could. Although it turned out to be not so careful since I had no feeling in it.
I woke her.
She followed me as I rolled, spooning my back.
“I like being the big spoon,” she said softly.
So softly that I wasn’t really sure if she was awake or not.
“You’re awake?” I asked her.
“Mm-hmm. For a couple minutes. I have to pee and I don’t want to get up.”
I just shook my head, burying my face into the pillows.
“You know where the bathroom is,” I said, eyes closing at the exhaustion that pulled at me.
She left the bed with a little laugh, making very little noise.
So little, in fact, that I was nearly asleep again when she returned.
And stuck her cold as fuck feet right against my thigh.
“Fuck,” I jolted, rolling over and pinning her to the bed. “You’re dead.”
Her eyes widened, and my arms moved until my hands were in the perfect spot, and I attacked.
“Ahhhh!” Blake screamed, giggling and squirming to get away from me.
I had her good, though.
I was straddling her waist, which kept her practically immobile as I tickled her ribs.
She laughed and thrashed, gasping in huge gulps of air as she screamed, “Stop!”
“What would you give me if I stopped?” I asked.
She glared through her giggles. “Anything.”
“Anything?” I asked, turning the tickles into pinches as I zeroed in on her nipples.
She gasped, hips thrusting up as she said, “Please.”
I grinned and eased off her hips.
Her shirt had ridden up to just underneath her breasts, and that’s when I noticed that she wasn’t wearing any panties.
“No panties, you naughty girl?” I asked.
She blushed. “I don’t like wearing them. They get all up my ass when I sleep.”
I snorted and bent down, taking in a deep breath, smelling the scent that came off her pussy.
“Smells like breakfast,” I said, just before I bent down and licked the seam of her sex.
She shaved all the hair off down there, making the experience a lot different from my usual ones…when I had them that was.
Out of all the women I’d been with, Blake was the first one to shave herself completely.
And I found that I liked it.
A lot.
Groaning, she widened her legs as she said, “Breakfast of champions.”
As she moved, the lips of her sex spread, revealing all the enticing little bits of herself that I just couldn’t wait to bury myself inside.
I leaned down, letting the scruff of my beard run along the inside of her legs for a moment before I sucked her pretty little clit inside my mouth.
“Mmmm,” I growled as her taste exploded in my mouth.
Sweet honey penetrated my taste buds as I ran my tongue in circles around her clit before moving down and plunging my tongue inside her entrance.
Her hands made a grab for my hair, but I caught both with mine before she could even touch it, forcing them to the bed as I moved up, pushing her legs high with my shoulders.
“Hold your legs,” I demanded, letting go of her arms.
She did as she was told, like the good girl that she was, and pulled her legs back until they were touching her ribs.
My fingers, now free, moved until the ones from my left hand were spreading her open more completely at the top.
The others went down to her pussy and thrust up inside, two fingers thick.
My knuckles brushed her asshole, causing that enticing pucker to clench in response.
When she didn’t move away, I did it again, causing her to moan and move down to allow my fingers to move deeper inside of her.
Knowing I’d explore that option later, I withdrew my fingers and mouth, and crawled up her body.
My cock came to a rest against her overheated pussy lips and I started to thrust, running my cock up the seam of her lips as I bent down and took her mouth.
She moaned and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, moving with me as I did.
Each time my cock hit her clit, she would jump, causing her distended nipples to scrape deliciously over my chest.
Lifting up, I grabbed her knees and pushed them together, creating an improvised sheath with the lips of her sex and her thighs.
My movements became faster as the pressure became extreme.
Her pussy was practically gushing, covering me in her juices as I thrust.
Her eyes were glazed as she watched me move.
Reaching down, I pushed her shirt up over her breasts and pinched her nipples, causing her to jump and cant her hips.
Which, in turn, caused my cock to enter something completely different than the tunnel I’d created with her legs and pussy lips.
And let me tell you something, this was fifty thousand times better.
The walls of her vagina surrounded my cock like it was made to fit me.
I’d never, in my entire life, been inside someone completely bare.
And right now, with Blake, it felt just…right.
Her eyes were stunned as I started to move inside of her, just as surprised as I was that I was now inside of her.
“You feel fucking perfect,” I grunted, moving faster.
My balls started to slap against her ass, and I finally lost control.
All of my senses were on overload as I started to pound into her.
“Oh, God,” she said, lifting her hands to play with her nipples, plucking and pinching. “Harder.”
Taking a hold of her legs at the backs of her knees, I pushed until I had perfect control of her pussy. Giving her exactly what she wanted.
The new angle must’ve allowed me to hit something inside of her that really worked for her, because it wasn’t ten seconds later that she started to come.
“Fuck!” She screamed, back arching as best as she could manage.
“Oh, God yes, Foster!” Boris screeched.
I ignored him.
Mostly because her walls started to pulse, causing my eyes to cross in pleasure.
Ripping myself from her juicy core abruptly, I started to come the moment my dick met the cool air.
Hot cum spurted from the tip of my cock, jetting all the way up to her bare breasts, then again up to her belly button before I could control my cock enough to push it down onto her bare pussy.
“Goddammit,” I groaned, grunting out the rest of my release. “You’ve got a voodoo pussy that makes me do stupid things.”
She laughed, taking one finger and trailing it in the release I’d adorned her stomach with, before bringing it up to her mouth and sucking it clean.
“Fuck me.”
She winked at my statement. “I already did.”
Chapter 16
A relationship is made for two. It’s just that some hoe’s don’t know how to count.
-Fact of Life
Foster
“You wanna go get something to eat?” She asked me forty five minutes later as she slipped on her shirt.
I squinted over at the clock, tired beyond belief.
Not from the sex, but just tired in general.
But I felt better than I had in months.
Groaning, I pushed myself out of bed and sat on the edge.
The first thing I did was rub some lotion into the skin surrounding my scar.
I had to make sure I did that, or the skin would degra
de. Or so I’d been told.
I’d yet to experience a blister, but I was fairly sure it’d happen sooner or later.
“Here,” Blake said, handing me the sleeve that held the pin onto my leg.
“Thanks,” I said, slipping it on carefully to discourage any air bubbles. “Where do you want to go eat?”
As I continued the process of getting dressed, I watched her carefully.
She was wearing red and white tights, a blue jean skirt, and a bright blue shirt that said, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish on it.
Then she started to braid her hair.
“What are you wearing?” I asked.
There was a smile in my voice that I couldn’t hide, and she tossed a grin over her shoulder at me.
“It’s officially Dr. Seuss day,” she told me.
“You’re allowed to wear that to work?” I clarified.
She nodded. “It wasn’t my idea to dress like this. But I’ll do it. I have no problem looking dorky. It’s only if you have a problem with going out to eat with me in this.”
I shrugged and pulled the pants on that I’d set out the night before.
Then pulled on my shoes.
“Do you think if you asked them if you could buy only one shoe, they’d allow you to?” She questioned, causing me to look up.
“I highly doubt it, to be honest.”
“Well maybe ask them if you can have it for half price…since, you know, you’re not going to use the other shoe,” she offered.
I winked. “I think I can handle paying for two shoes.”
She shrugged. “I’ll bet they give a military discount.”
I gave her a pointed look. “I can handle it. And how’d we get to talking about shoes, anyway? How much longer do we have before I need to take you to work?”
She spun around, surprise evident on her face. “Why would I need you to take me to work?”
I shook my head. “You had somebody break into your house, and a drive by shooting aimed at your house. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to deal with me taking you to work unless you want me to start getting forceful.”
She held up her hands in mock horror.
“Ooooo!” She sang sarcastically.
I vaulted out of bed, catching her around the hips before she could even make it to the bedroom doorway.
“Eeek!” She squealed as I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder.
Charlie Foxtrot Page 10