"Her Foxy Mom" - читать интересную книгу автора (DeSantis M.)

Chapter 3

"Time to get up, Charly!"

Her mother's voice through the door was brisk and cheerful with the new morning.

Charlene was annoyed. Not that her mother was waking her. In fact, Charlene had already been awake. She'd slept only fitfully and she welcomed the morning. It gave her an excuse to surrender in the battle to sleep and finally arise.

What she resented was the reason for her mother's cheer and her own melancholy. Her mother, after all, had gotten it the night before.

Charlene hadn't.

She swung her long legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching away the uncomfortable links – not the stiffness that follows a good, sound sleep.

I wonder if Derek is still here?

There was no real reason for her mother's lover to have left yet; Charlene knew he owned a small real estate business on the increasingly fashionable Upper West Side of Manhattan. And Derek had been getting it on with her mother long enough for him to be "allowed" to sleep over the entire night and leave next day.

Quickly, Charlene pulled on a filmy peignoir and brushed her glorious hair back into a ponytail. She checked herself out in the mirror. The peignoir was becoming to her, a pale yellow color, but when she stepped through the bright sunlight coming through her window, it became all but transparent. Most of her was placed on display, her thighs above the midpoint hem clearly silhouetted right up to the little ripples of young pussy lip shadows through the material. Her breasts, unfettered and disdaining the support of a bra as unnecessary, bounced enticingly while still straining with their firm thrust against the fabric. Her nipples were dark spots in the center of pale mounds of creamy flesh – dark spots that were slowly hardening to twin spikes from the friction of the lightweight peignoir against them.

She looked sexy and edible – and wet, with her finely chiseled features and red hair and bright green eyes, she also somehow managed to look like an ice maiden, almost haughty in her appearance.

She took a deep breath, her magnificent breasts testing the holding power of the peignoir, threw her shoulders back – and then opened the door and walked out into the corridor. She jounced quickly down the stairs to the kitchen, tits bobbling beautifully – and sadly, for there was no one to appreciate the sight.

Her mother sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window. The view was to the west, and much of midtown was easily visible. Their building was on Thirty-fifth and Lexington, their apartment on the fortieth and forty-first floors. Over on the Park Avenue block, a welldressed couple in their fifties were taking breakfast on the garden patio of their penthouse, served by a handsome black man in a butler's uniform. The man was reading the paper. Charlene was sure it was the Times.

"Good morning, Mom," she said, leaning over to press her lips lightly to her mother's cheek. Her mother's complexion was still as soft and alluring as any woman of twenty might wish. At thirty-nine, she turned teen-aged heads to watch her with ease.

"Hi, Charly," her mother answer. "Coffee?"

"I'll get it"

She knew her mother was watching her reflection in the windowpane. It made her a bit uncomfortable this morning. Whatever was on her mother's mind, though, she knew it couldn't be too time-consuming. Her mother was a copyrighter for an ad agency – a damn good one, too – and would be leaving for work in a few minutes. She was already dressed in a camel dress cut an inch or so up her thighs and hugging her trim waist to emphasize all the more the curvaceous fullness of her bust and ass.

Charlene walked over to the table with her coffee and sat opposite her mother.

"You came in awfully late, young lady," her mother began gently. "I thought you understood: no late dates on school nights. Leave you too groggy to learn. You look half-asleep as it is."

"Un-huh." Charlene sipped her coffee. She couldn't resist asking. "How was your date?"

Her mother's eyes clouded. "Oh, fine, fine." She was momentarily lost in a reverie of remembered passions – as Charlene had hoped.

But then her mother drained her cup and looked Charlene squarely in the eye. "Charly,"

"Um?"

"Are you a virgin?"

Charlene nearly shit herself. "Am I a what?"

"Virgin. You know, intact hymen and all that."

"Mom, for crying out -"

"Well, are you?"

She sighed. "Yes, Mother." Which was, technically, true. While she had managed to strip away that little piece of skin over the past few years of cramming various objects into her hot young cunt, she never had actually, fucked with a man.

To her dismay.

"Why?" her mother asked.

Charlene stared at her. "Why?" she echoed.

"I asked you first."

Charlene couldn't help but smile at the old Groucho line. "Well, I just – just haven't – haven't – you know, Mom."

"Why not? Sal's got the hots for you – and unless high school and college boys have changed markedly since I was your age, probably half the straight males in the city drool over you. So why?"

Charlene was just getting around to formulating the answer to that when her mother stood and said, "I'd better get going. But if you decide you're going to do any you-know-what, young lady, you call the doctor and arrange some precautionary measures – if you know what I mean." She bent, kissed Charlene on the forehead. "See you later, Charly."

"Yeah, have a nice day, Mom." Charlene stared down into her coffee as her mother left the kitchen. A moment later, the door to the apartment closed.

Cripes, she thought, even her mother had seemed a bit put off to hear that Charlene hadn't done any fucking, had not been getting her share.

Maybe, she thought, there would come a time when any good mother would ask her that of her daughter out of genuine concern. She could picture it:

"Are you feeling okay, Jane?"

"I'm okay, Mom."

"Are you sure? Let me look at you." And then after examining her daughter's appearance, a good mother would ask," Jane, have you been getting your share lately?"

And if her daughter admitted she hadn't been, her mother would admonish her to go out and find a man with a good stiff dick. Maybe turn over the keys to the bedroom for the night.

Charlene sighed again. That time hadn't come – yet. Though she suspected that it did really happen that way in at least a few households.

But not her own. Not yet, at least.

She finished her coffee and got ready for school.

By happy coincidence, that was the day of the teacher's meeting at her school – and therefore all of the classes for the afternoon were called off.

It fit in perfectly with Charlene's scheme.

She met Sal in the usual place – outside the Sixty-eighth Street entrance to the IRT.

"Hi, Charly," he said brightly, kissing her lightly on the cheek and slipping one arm about her. They made a striking couple. Sal was tall and well-built and handsome, with dark, curly hair that almost covered his ears. He squeezed her to him. It was the same, as always.

So far. But what Sal didn't know was what she had in mind for him.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Not much. What're you doing this afternoon?"

"Nothing in particular. Got something in mind?"

You don't know the half of it. "Oh, I thought we might go back to my house and just fall out. There might be a good movie on cable TV."

"Suits me." They went into the station and boarded a train to Thirty-third Street, then disembarked and walked to, Charlene's apartment building. They'd done this before and always had ended up watching cable television movies or playing Scrabble. Occasionally, they'd gotten down to it and once that had led to some pretty heavy messing around. But when Charlene had put her hand on the bulge in his pants, Sal had suddenly gotten scared and backed off. He was afraid her mother might find them. Or something.

She'd whacked off till her pussy was sore that night.

"I'll be right back," she said when they.got inside the apartment. "Going to get out of these and into something a little more comfortable. Be at home."

In her own room, she quickly stripped off her school clothes and pulled on a sashed blouse that reached almost to her knees, a pair of black panties and nothing else. She tied a loose knot in the sash so that the sides hugged in just enough to accentuate her trim waist and the soft, gentle flare of her adolescent hips – not to mention the bold, impudent thrust of her twin mounds of quivering, creamy tit flesh.

This time, when she came flouncing down the stairs, there was someone to appreciate it.

Sal looked like his eyeballs were going to roll right out of his head.

"What are you looking at?" Charlene demanded sharply.

"Y-y-y-y-" he stammered.

"Sounds like?" she teased, putting on as though they were playing charades.

Sal stopped, took a deep breath – and then another. Finally, he said, "Charlene, I can see… everything."

She sidled up close to him, slung her arms up over his shoulders and around his neck and pressed the full length of her lovely body to his. She could feel the potent bulge of his cock through his trousers growing down his thigh.

"Complaints?" she whispered, slipping her fingers up through the hair on the back of his head. She let her eyelids half-close, gave her hips a little twist so that her out-thrust little pubic mound would move against his thigh. His eyes were momentarily distant – and then became fearful.

And still, he'd made no move to take advantage of her blatant offer.

Charlene pulled his head down, meeting his still-stammering lips with her own. Her mouth was open in moist, yielding invitation and as soon as the first contact was made, she let her tongue slither out and in between his teeth. His tongue jerked back at her touch, as though burned – but she pursued him.

Within moments, their tongues were dueling on the playing field of their wetly joined mouths. She could feel his dick swelling still harder, throbbing even more insistently within the confines of his regulation jeans. His arms tightened about her back, crushing the luscious swells of her breasts fiercely against his chest.

But then, Sal suddenly pulled his mouth from hers, averting his face.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"We – we shouldn't be doing this," he breathed.

"Shouldn't be – " She stopped, caught her breath "And why not?"

"Because we're liable to get carried away." Sal answered.

"And what's wrong with that?" she demanded.

"Because I-you-"

"Spit it out!"

"Because you're a virgin."

"I don't want to be a virgin," she said carefully. Suddenly, she understood. One of her girlfriend's had told her that she'd lost a boyfriend who wouldn't fuck her because she'd told him she was a virgin. She'd simply let her next man assume she wasn't – until the bloody evidence afterwards told him.

"Charlene!" Sal gasped.

Obviously, she thought, Sal didn't want what he perceived to be the responsibilities and ties of popping a girl's cherry.

Only one thing to do.

Charlene slipped one hand down over his thigh until her fingers had closed about the rigid, pulsating lump of his penis within his pants. Sal gasped and yanked her fingers away from him. "Don't!"

"But why -"

"Because you're a -"

"Maybe I don't want to be," she said. "And maybe I'm not."

His jaw fell. "But you said -"

She went into her act. "I'm sorry, Sal, but I – " She raised her eyes and met his gaze. "I lied."

"You lied? You? I don't believe it!"

"It's true," she said. "I-I don't like to talk about it because it was… against my will."

"You were raped?"

Was it her imagination or did his cock really give an extra spasm?

"When I was thirteen," she continued, improvising effectively. "No one knows except Mom and me – and you, now. Not even Daddy knows."

"Cripes," he whispered.

She was sure: he was more excited. She let her hand slip back down his leg, insinuating it between them. She slowly covered the swollen bar of his prick flesh and gently increased the pressure of her fingers on it. She could see the reaction in the slowly changing expression on his face.

"Why are you telling me now?" he managed to ask.

"Because you'd never have gotten around to making love to me otherwise – and I want you to."

"You want me to?" he asked, as though he were unable to believe what she'd said.

"Yes," she hissed – and tightened her finger grip powerfully about his cock.

Sal groaned, flinched, eyes closing.

"Yes, Sal, I do," she murmured. "Take me!"

"Oh, cripes, cripes," he groaned – but still made no move to do as she'd asked.

So Charlene literally took matters into her own hands. She moved her fingers deftly and his zipper was open. She reached inside with one hand and got her fingers into his briefs. A moment of quick, desperate fumbling and she had his aching cock out into the open air.

And in her cool hand.

"Do you want me to tell you about it?" she asked.

He didn't even ask her what "it" was. He knew. "Yeah," he said. "Tell me."

She wrapped her fingers about the stiff bar of dick flesh, savoring its heat and the steel behind the velvety softness. His cock was a good six inches long and thicker than the handle of her hairbrush dildo. The knob was purpled with blood and his shaft thickened just slightly before disappearing down into the mass of coarse, wary hair matting over the base of his groin. His balls were tight and full with pent-up semen.

Again, she improvised, as her fist began shuttling slowly up and down over the length of his dong.

"It was late summer," she said, hand moving, "just after my birthday and just before school started."

As she spoke, she moved slowly backwards, gradually backing towards the conversation pit sofa. He followed her.

"It was the year before you moved into the area and it was very hot."

She loved the feel of his hard-on beneath her fingers.

"I was swimming in the pool of the thirtieth floor of the building. It was late, nearly eleven, and it was almost deserted – except for the pool guard and one of his friends."

She felt the edge of the couch cushions against the backs of her knees, gracefully lowered herself to sit.

"He was watching me all night. Maybe it was the way I was dressed."

"What were you wearing?" Sal asked hoarsely.

"A pair of bikini bottoms – and an old white teeshirt. My breasts were really just starting to develop then. They weren't as big as they are now."

She was sitting, facing him, looking right at his cock – and it seemed to Charlene almost as if his prick was staring right back at her with the cyclopean eye of the pee-hole slit in the glans. As she spoke, she slowly loosened the sash of her top and let it swing open, exposing her gorgeous tits to his hungry eyes. He feasted on them, devouring the perfection of their curves, the saucy uptilt of her stiffened little nipples, the melonlike firmness of the mounds of milky white flesh.

Slowly, she brought her free hand up and let her fingers slightly caress the underside of one thrusting, snowy hillock, emphasizing the gentle fullness of the well-developed tit.

"Gawd, they're beautiful," Sal managed to mutter. He stared at them as though he'd never seen a woman's naked boobs before.

"My breasts weren't nearly this large," she repeated, halfencircling one jug with her hand and lifting and squeezing it by way of illustration. She bent her head down and licked out her tongue, barely grazing the taut little spike of pink nipple flesh. Then she looked up at him, saw his eyes locked onto her. "They've always been supersensitive – even then," she whispered. "The cold water in the pool made the nipples get all hard and pointy – like they are now." Again she bent her head and teased the turgid little peak with her wet tongue. She felt an answering gush of warmth through her cunt.

"I saw the guard watching me. He was eighteen. His name was – " She stopped. "It doesn't matter."

"You know who it was?" Sal asked – and then gasped as his cock was treated to a sudden, rapid shuttling by her fingers.

"Sure," she answered, squeezing tightly about the base of his dick. "But we didn't prosecute."

"Cripes – oh, shit!"

Again her fingers had tightened about his dick shaft. At the same time, her free hand had moved to open the waist of his pants. The jeans fell to the floor about his ankles. She relinquished her grip on his click long enough to work his briefs down off his hips and about his thighs.

And then her fingers were once more wrapped about the angry erection throbbing from his loin.

"He watched me for a while. Then he asked me if I knew how to do the butterfly stroke. I told him I didn't and he said he'd show me. When he stood up on the chair I saw this big bulge inside his lifeguard swimming trunks. I knew what those things were all about but – but I'd never actually seen one before."

Which was a blatant lie on her part. She'd seen hard male cock before, all right. She'd loved watching from her bedroom window as the couple in the building across the courtyard fucked.

"He got into the water with me," Charlene said, her hand moving gradually faster on Sal's prick. He had me float on my belly and slipped his arms under me to show me how to move – and then he put his hands on my titties and squeezed them."

She stopped, licked her lips. The head of his prick looked as if it were going to explode from the pressure of hot blood within it.

"I was scared and tried to get away from him," she continued with her invented story. "But I couldn't. And besides, as soon as he did that, I felt this warm sensation inside me, like an ache. He turned me over in the water, then wrapped one arm around my waist and held me close." She closed her eyes. Her hand began twisting over the skin of his prick. "I could feel all his muscles against me – and that – that – that thing inside his swimsuit all hard and stiff and throbbing. It was pressing right between my legs, against my pussy. I couldn't help it; it was starting to turn me on."

She ran the tip of her tongue slowly over her lips. Then she opened her eyes and found Sal staring, slack-jawed, at her.

"He put one hand down the back of my swimsuit, then reached down with his fingers till they were touching between my legs, right on the lips of my pussy. It didn't have any hair at all on it then – it hasn't even got that much on it now. I thought I was going to melt, the way it felt"

She stopped, took a deep breath and felt the aching in her tits. She was turning herself on with the story as well.

"All the strength seemed to go out of me as he told me how he'd always watched me, always wanted to do that with me and show me how good it felt. He said he'd always imagined what it would be like to -"

"Go on," Sal rasped. "What?"

"To suck my pussy," she said quickly, as if ashamed to say it. "How sweet and tasty it would be, what it would be like to put his tongue up inside me and suck my pussy lips, how hot and tight my little cunt would be when he fingered it. And the more he talked like that, the more he played with my pussy, the more turned on I got. I was getting weak. I couldn't make myself fight him – not even when he pulled my bottoms off."

"Oh cripes, yes," Sal whispered, eyes closed. "I can just imagine your little ass, all hard and tight, your little cunt, so sweet and fresh. Cripes."

"He carried me over to the side of the pool and put me up on the deck. The astroturf was brand-new then and soft underneath me. My legs were hanging over the edge of the pool, dangling into the water. He put his big hands on my thighs, spread my legs and – and then he put his mouth over me down there." She shivered with imagined, remembered sensations. "I thought I'd die, it felt so good. His tongue was playing with my pussy lips and moving up inside me just a little bit and he nipped at my labia. From time to time, he'd shove his tongue way up inside me and then suck as hard as he could on my pussy – and then I'd feel like he was sucking my insides out. Pretty soon I was pushing my hips towards him, shoving my pussy into his mouth.

"And then he was putting his big hands underneath my ass, lifting my hips and feeding my pussy into his mouth like it was a Chinese meal."

She shook, her hips writhing and grinding downwards against the sofa fabric. She was imagining what it would have been like even as she made it all up – and it was making her hotter than ever.

"He kept that up for a few more minutes – and then he started sliding me backwards on the astroturf, climbing out of the pool. He stopped eating me – and then I looked up. My tee-shirt was all I had on and it was plastered tight to me with the water. It was almost invisible. But he – " She stopped, took a deep breath, noting the way Sal's prick was jerking in her grip." He was totally nude. I looked at his penis and – and then I got scared. All of a sudden, I realized what he was going to do, where he was going to put it – and I knew I couldn't take it. It was too big for my first dick, just too much!"

"How big was it?" Sal asked, breathless.

"Oh, it wasn't as big as yours," she said cleverly. "But to me it looked like the Empire State Building."

"And then, did he -"

"Yes," Charlene answered quickly. "He got down on his knees between my legs. He made me put my hand on it. I didn't want to, I told him I was afraid – and he called me dirty names and said if I didn't, he'd – he'd – he'd put it somewhere else… up my backside."

Sal could only blink – and then flinch again as she gave his hardened click a quick twist with her increasingly expert hand.

"I knew if he did that it'd just about kill me… so I did as he told me. I put the head of his penis up against my little cunny. He told me to rub it up and down and I did. That felt good, especially when the soft skin on his glans hit my clitoris. I was still excited, and the juices from inside my little pussy made me even hotter when I heard them slurping on his dong."

She paused as Sal put one hand on her shoulder and pushed her blouse back. It fell from her upper body. She was naked from the waist up.

"Then he told me to use my fingers to spread the labia. I did. I could feel the cool, moist air from the pool on the inside of my pussy. Somehow, that made me feel wilder, abandoned, ready to try anything.

"And then he told me to put the head of his penis into my vagina.

"I did."

"Did it hurt?" Sal whispered. His hands were on her shoulders, slipping lower to cover her magnificent breasts. He caught her turgid nipples between thumbs and forefingers, twisting and rolling the sensitive points of pink flesh. It felt so much better to Charlene when someone else did that for and to her.

"Just a little," she breathed. "At first. It was so big and I was so little and tight. It felt like my labia were going to split wide open. But he told me to – to touch my clitoris and play with myself."

"And -"

"And," she continued, "it started to feel good – very good. The more I did that, the longer he held still, the better it felt and the more I wanted him to do more."

"And did he?"

"Yes." The word was hardly more than a modulated breath. "Yes, he did. He started pushing his big thing into my little pussy. At first it just kept feeling good – but then he kept pushing and the head of his penis came up against my hymen. I thought it was going to kill me. It hurt like I never thought anything could hurt.

"'You're tight, little babe,' he said to me.

"I knew that without him saying so – and I knew my hymen was strong, too. As much as he pushed against it, my membrane just wouldn't give. He starred pulling his penis back and jabbing it into me, again and again. In time it felt good, better, turned me on more – until he hit my hymen again.

"I could tell he was getting frustrated. And then, all of a sudden, he put his hands back under my little ass. My butt was so small he could just about cover each cheek with each hand. He squeezed, squeezed so hard it started to hurt. He pulled back till just the head of his penis was still inside me. I thought that maybe he was going to give up and pull out.

"But he didn't."

As her hand moved over Sal's prick, his hips were shuddering and jerking. She was afraid of going too hard on him: he might come too soon and she'd be foiled.

But the idea of having him come in her hand and all over her naked tits wasn't exactly boring to her, either.

On the other hand, though, what she wanted – and what her cunt never tired of signaling to her – was to have his furiously throbbing prick crammed inside her and unloading its copious load there.

"All of a sudden, he slammed back down on top of me. At the same time, he pulled my little hips up to him. His penis slammed into me, the head hit my hymen. The membrane strained, pulled – and then tore, ruptured, ripped away. It was like a pop inside me – and just like that, I wasn't aware of anything but the terrible, terrible pain and the head of his penis sliding all the way up inside my box.

"The pain was like fire inside me. I begged him to stop. I told him to give me a chance. Already, it was feeling just a little bit good up inside me – I knew that if he'd just hold still for a minute or so I could enjoy it. But he wouldn't. He just kept plowing in and out of me, faster and faster. He was grunting and groaning about how tight I was, how hot I was inside. I guess I clamped down on him because of the way it hurt."

Sal's eyes were entirely closed. His hands were just holding her lovely tits, squeezing the pale mounds of flesh rhythmically.

"After a few minutes, he tensed. His strokes got short and strong – and then I could feel his penis swell up still more inside me.

"And then I felt a load of hot wet stuff shooting inside me. I knew he was coming.

"After that, he just pulled out of me. His semen and some blood dribbled out of my hairless little slit for a moment.

"And then he just got a couple of towels for the blood, helped me get back into my bottoms and took me to the elevator. He let me off at my floor. He quit a week later. When I told Mom what happened, she said not to tell anyone else… but that it wasn't anything to be ashamed of."

She looked up into Sal's lust slackened face. "So that's why I'm a virgin – but I'm not. Really."

Sal didn't say anything right then. His breath just kept rasping in and out of his flared nostrils, whistling between his loosely opened lips.

"Well, what do you think, Sal?" she asked, encircling the shaft of his cock in the depressed ring just behind the flange of the glans with her thumb and forefinger – and tightening her grip.

"Cripes, Charlene," he breathed then – and began pushing her back onto the couch.

She didn't resist.

Charlene kept her grip on his prick as she fell back supine on the sofa. She felt his body shifting as he stepped out of his puddled jeans and briefs, kicking off his shoes. And then his hands were at her slender hips, tugging away her wispy panties. His movements were urgent, his fingers trembling with haste. He actually tore the panties as they passed over her ankles, but she didn't care because the delicious entrance to her tight, unfucked cunt was naked and exposed to the cool air and his lusty gaze.

She felt his hand come down between her spreading legs to cup the lightly haired chub. His palm rubbed back and forth, testing the elasticity of the labia. She could more than feel the touch: she could hear it as the tightly compressed pussy lips sucked apart under his massage.

Charlene moaned and arched her nubile hips upward with eager response to his hand's movements. He slipped one finger inside the opening, prying apart the taut lips. She gasped with pleasure at the invasion of a finger other than her own. The powerful muscles at the entrance of her cunt bore down with reflexive urgency on the invading digit. Her pussy actually seemed to suck his finger in deeper as Sal began stroking it in and out in imitation of the solid fucking she craved so much.

At the same time, he was lowering himself to his knees between her quivering thigh. Charlene reached down with shaking fingers and found the head of his prick. She grasped it as she'd claimed to have grasped the head of another cock and led it directly to the point where it was most needed – the separation of her tight little labia.

Sal hissed softly as she rubbed the velvety, nerve-covered glans up and down in the tiny slit between her labia, sliming it with her effusive pussy juices. Again and again, it hit the head of her protruding little clitoral nubbin and she responded with heaves of her hips as the pleasures coursed through her.

But then she knew that the time had finally come. She could draw out the moment no longer.

Charlene put her other hand between her legs. Her fingers found and spread her pussy lips. She fitted the head of his cock between them and released the labia. They clamped tightly about the chunk of soft, swollen male flesh. It fit into her entrance like a cork in the neck of a tight flask.

She took her hands away and put them on his powerfully muscled ass cheeks. Her mouth opened in soundless wails of sensation. She could feel every pulsation of hot blood throbbing through the head of his cock within her pussy lips' grip as clearly as if she were plugged into his heart herself. It was wonderful, terrific, beautiful, every bit as pleasurable as she'd imagined, dreamed and fantasized it would be.

Slowly, Sal began to move. He pushed his hips forward, and his prick slid slowly into her waiting pussy. Steadily, without hesitating, the bar of rigid male meat drove into her aching quim until she had the full length of it inside her.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," she hissed up to him. Her breasts were crushed against his wide, powerful chest – and her pussy lips were crushed against the hard, bony ring at the base of his click. Instinctively Charlene began to roll her hips upward, grinding her pussy against his loins. Sal's cock was already starting to leap and jerk inside her cunt grip and she had a sudden, horrible awareness that he was going to come soon – very soon.

Too soon.

"No, no – wait for me," she pleaded. Desperately, she was thrusting her hips up to him.

But Sal was already short-stroking in and out of her. Barely half the length of his cock was being withdrawn and piled back into her receptive cunt and that with all the power and strength he could muster. Going faster and faster, meeting his downstrokes with her own heaving lurches upwards, she strove for the orgasm she felt only moments away. She could feel every bump and vein in his lovely hard cock as it slid in and out between the lips of her pussy and seemed preternaturally aware of the slap of his potent young balls against the spread furrow of her tightly molded ass.

But then he plunged the length of his prick back into her with abrupt power – so much that it knocked the breath from her. Of their own volition, her long, lissome legs came up and wrapped about his hips, her ankles locking and her heels pounding against his ass. She squeezed her eyes shut and strained for her orgasm.

And then he let loose inside of her.

"Oh, cripes, Charlene," he moaned – and she felt his geyser of hot cream inside her almost immediately. She could feel each spasm rippling through the long tube running the length of the underside of his prick, feel each sudden jerk of his prick inside her, feel each eruption of spunk shooting out of her and spattering deep, deep inside her burning quim.

She answered by heaving her hips up at him with such power that she seemed about to dislodge him. Her pussy had closed about his cock with incredible strength – and, still, she was brief but ineradicable moments away from her own orgasm as he shot his wad.

She felt his cock beginning to deflate inside her cunt, felt the strength, the rigidity, the heat going out of it as it was poured into her cunt and womb. His dick limpened and his jerkings slowed – and then he was lying still and motionless on top of her.

"No – you have to make me come, too!" she wailed. Her heels pounded ineffectually against the flesh of his ass – but it was useless. He'd come, dumped the long-restrained load of his balls into her long-denied cunt – and there was nothing in the world that would revive the cock soon enough to bring her the peak she craved.

With sudden anger and frustration, Charlene put her strong, slim hands against his chest and pushed his semi-conscious form off and out of her. The feel of his limp dick coming out of her cunt sent another spasm of residual lust through her slender hips – and then he fell heavily to the floor.

"Hey, what're you doing that for?" Sal asked groggily – but got no answer. He let his head fall back to the soft, plush carpeting and his eyes closed He began to doze.

While above him, on the sofa, Charlene was digging and pawing at her own cunt with furious need, squeezing and rubbing and kneading her pussy lips as though there were a fire inside them, pinching and flicking her fingertips on her clitoris, jamming desperate fingers as far inside her twat as she could. She needed to come, had to come. If she didn't come she was quite certain she was going to lose her mind.

It took a while, but after about ten minutes of playing with herself and fantasizing, she finally made it – though it wasn't the shattering intense orgasm she'd felt rising through her while Sal had been fucking her.

As always, it left her frustrated and in need of something more.

She lay still for a few moments, then stood. She looked disgustedly down at the dozing form of her now ex-boyfriend, then strode into the bathroom to shower, douche and change. When she returned to the living room, she prodded Sal awake with a toe and drove him out of the apartment with angry words while he was still tightening his belt at his waist.

There has to be something better, she thought. There just has to be.

There was.