Erotic Fiction

[keats]

Candy Loving’s long gleaming red finger nail tapped impatiently on the side of the phone with as curvaceous Playmate waited for the translator to take her answer and render it into…what language was it now, Japanese or Chinese or some other Asian language? She had been doing these telephone interviews for European and Far Eastern journalists for endless hours now and she couldn’t keep track of where she was calling to at the moment. She glanced at the clock and pouted; if it was 1AM here in Los Angeles what time could it be in Kuala Lumpur? Ordinarily Candy wouldn’t mind answering the same questions over and over—How did it feel to pose nude the first time? Nervous but the crew was very professional. What does your family think about you becoming a playmate? They are very supportive. And so on and so on.

The press interviews were a chore foisted on her as Playboy’s 25th Anniversary Playmate and Miss January 1979 and she approached the task with the same enthusiasm she had for all her other playmate duties. But tonight she had arranged to have herself sewn into the sheer white pants suit once more; the body-hugging outfit took an hour to be stitched into and mere seconds to be torn off—the skin tight pants had to be replaced several times already. Out of all the outfits she wore for Playboy this was her favorite; the soft gossamer fabric fit snuggly over her curves and caressed her bare skin into a constant state of arousal and while the costume was completely see-through, it seemed even more sexy somehow than if she were completely nude. It was an expensive outfit to wear because it was so skin-tight and so seamless that she had to be sewn into it each time. And each time she wore it she found herself being ravished by some lustful man and the sheer outfit was, inevitably ripped to shreds.

She had dressed up because she was expecting the pants to be torn away again. The infamous basketball player was visiting the Mansion and at dinner he made it clear that tonight was Candy’s night. The tall dark athlete was famous as a one of the best centers ever to play the game; standing over seven feet tall, he was known as the Stilt, but among the playmates that nickname took on a different meaning. He was known as an artist in the bedroom and many of the girls had affectionate names for his massive tool. Candy had to admit she was curious.

The basketball star was the only one of the publisher’s friends to have his own room at the Mansion; the tiny closet in Chicago was legendary and, while his room here in LA was slightly larger, every girl reported that all it had was a bed and once a girl was on that bed she got little sleep, instead, enjoying a ride that she would dream about for years. Yes, Candy was curious but now she was frustrated; the clock ticked along, marking the endless stretch of words while the reporter on the line droned his thanks to the lovely playmate for her time, and the honor, and the pleasure, and blah, blah, blah. The translator finally finished.

“Well, Miss Loving, I believe that is the last call,” he said finally. “You have been a very hard worker. I know time has passed 1AM there in your city. Please allow yourself to do some rest.”

Candy leapt out of her seat, almost dropping the receiver. “Thank you, thank you; my pleasure,” she sang out before hanging up. She practically skipped with joy as she left the office.

She rushed as quickly as her high-heeled boots and skin-tight pants would allow, almost tumbling down the grand staircase in her haste. But the living room was oddly quiet. A few girls were in one dimly lit corner playing backgammon. Denise McConnell looked up at Candy and her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the anniversary playmate’s revealing outfit. Candy’s breasts were still rocking in the tight, tight sheer blouse from the running she just did.

“Everybody went to some fancy disco opening,” Denise said in her deep, smoky voice in response to the question in Candy’s eyes.

“If you’re looking for the Stilt,” Janet Quist added with a teasing voice, “He’s upstairs with Miss July.” All three backgammon players giggled, thinking both about the tiny, slim Karen Morton riding the huge dark shaft. And the look of disappointment on Candy’s face as she imagined the same thing was almost comical.

Miss January shrugged her shoulders, feigning indifference. “Well, I was planning to get to bed early anyway,” she said.

“Oh, sure,” Janet teased, but Candy’s only response was to walk out of the room.

The lovely playmate was restless but had nowhere to go really. She drifted back up the stairs and wandered in a trance down the long cavernous corridor. Dressed in the skin-tight white diaphanous costume she looked delicious; she looked like… well, like candy. She paused in front of a tall mirror and regarded herself. Her large breasts were two perfect globes and the blouse hid none of the expansive curves of her chest. Her nipples were completely in view, poking through the white fabric. The blouse was open to the navel and closed with a knot; the skin revealed in the gap was white and moist and smooth. Her narrow waist flared out to full generous hips; the white slacks were so tight that each curl of her bush was not only on view in a dark glistening patch but also outlined perfectly like a sculpture as the fabric hugged her hips and thighs snugly. The patent leather white boots accentuated her shapely legs, completing the sexy outfit. Her soft luxurious dark brown hair cascaded in streams down around her shoulders and framed her round lively face. Her brown eyes gleamed with life and her full lips pouted sexily. Candy sulked for a moment as she studied herself but she couldn’t blame the basketball player from enjoying Karen Morton; the slim blonde had a tight firm body and wide innocent eyes. For a second Candy imagined the tiny girl being impaled on the long ebony shaft. Miss January’s hand drifted down her belly and over the heat of her mound, but a sharp yelp snapped her out of her reverie. She turned and shuffled down the hall to investigate.

The muffled sound was all the more startling because of the unusual quiet in the hall and Candy’s interest was piqued. Of course the pretty playmate was bemused to find herself in front of the basketball player’s door. She could hear the bed springs squealing in a tense rhythm and Karen’s soft whimpers breathing in harmony with the beat. Surreptitiously glancing around to see if she could be seen, Candy leaned into the door, squashing her pillow-soft breasts against the cool wood as she pressed an ear to listen. Inside there was a sudden pause and then a deep male voice, “Oh yeah, that’s good, baby doll.” The bed began to squeal again but Karen was now barking out, ‘Oh, oh, oh,” over and over again.

Once again Candy’s hand pressed over her hot eager mound as she leaned against the door. She felt a wave of pleasure shake her spine and she closed her eyes to enjoy the bliss radiating from the flat palm and gyrating fingers over her sex. Her other arm snaked under her own breasts, hugging them warmly.

‘Yeah, baby doll, you’re so fine, so smooth, so tight; let it go for me, baby.”

Behind the door Karen let out a scream and there was the pounding of tiny fists on the wall. “No, no, no….oh god,” the young girl wailed. Candy’s nimble hand raced up and down the seam of the white pants, etching a line of passion over her slit.

The man’s smooth voice purred in a deep growl, “You can do it, doll, pretty little sex doll. Show me you can do it.” Candy’s fingers dug into the outline of the lips of her pussy, grinding into the gauzy fabric, and she groaned in harmony with Karen. She squeezed her own heaving bosom tightly.

“That’s right baby, faster; come for me baby.”

Candy’s hand rubbed faster and frantically; her body was trembling with ecstasy as she jammed her body against the hard surface before her. She was shocked by a thud and felt something slam into the other side of the door. Suddenly there was a heavy pounding. Candy could hear the man thrust himself up into Karen and the blonde’s ass slapping and slamming into the wood, each thrust echoing in the writhing body of Miss January. Candy’s arm and hand vibrated like a rocket at the end of a countdown and her whole body was surrendering to the urge to lift off. She twisted around and stood on her toes, her head leaning back into the door and her back arching. The slamming of Karen’s body being hammered against the door vibrated down Candy’s spine.

The two playmates came together; Candy quiet and desperate in her shallow breathing and fluttering heart, Karen loud and violent as she screamed her bliss into the man’s chest. Candy shivered against the door and slowly recovered her breath; she could hear Karen struggling on the bed as the man maneuvered her into a new position. The voluptuous brunette shook her long mane of hair; she had to get out of there. On wobbly legs she staggered back down the hall to get as far as possible from that door.

Candy’s restless wanderings finally took her to the game room, empty now and still, lit only by the garish lights of a bank of pinball machines against one wall. With a bemused smile she drew close to the new one; she had yet to get a look at the special Bally Playboy pinball machine and the sight of it made her giggle with delight.

Everything Playboy was known for could be seen on this pinball machine. In the center of the back-glass there's the publisher with two playmates; he had his ubiquitous pipe in his mouth and a possessive grip around the waists of Patti McGuire and Sondra Theodore—Patti in a clinging hot pink teddy and Sondra in a skimpy bikini. Candy’s smile broadened to a lascivious grin; she could remember seeing the three of them just this way a few days ago moments before they disappeared behind a bedroom door. She studied the machine some more: There's the Playboy bunny logo. A variation on Playboys marketing slogan 'Entertainment for men' at the top of the back-glass above the Playboy logo. The Playboy femlin, looking cute and sexy, popped up in different poses all over the machine. Little Annie Fannie was naked and luscious in the grotto and the Playboy Mansion itself was in view in the background. Patti and Sondra also posed invitingly on the playfield looking like they wanted to fool around with the pinball player. On one of the flippers Candy could read, “It takes steel balls to play pinball.”

The dazzling lights of the machine were reflected in Candy’s dark brown eyes; they flashed with amusement but as she looked at the machine her grin faded to a rueful smile. The machine suggested everything she had come to expect from the Playboy lifestyle but here she was alone and aroused in the middle of the night; dressed to kill and still nobody’s playmate.

With a lethargic flick of her wrist she pulled the plunger and sent a steel ball rolling up the chute; it bounced around a bit, kissing the bumpers, making some lights flash and the machine became alive as a score began to rack up on the board. The ball drifted down the playing field and she sluggishly pressed the flipper button sending the ball in a slow arc back up to collect some more points. Candy snorted with boredom but as the ball dropped down she put both hands lightly on the flipper buttons and sent it flying back up for more points. She glanced up at the scoreboard as the numbers accumulated, and she bent into the game, cursing softly as the ball dropped out of play.

She snapped the plunger with more gusto this time and the ball flew; her graceful hands soon got the knack of the flippers and she pleased herself by more than tripling her score.

With the next ball she jammed her pelvis into the machine; grinding her hips to guide the steel ball, she barely managed to avoid tilting the machine but she did manage to roll up an awesome score. She hunched over the machine, serious now; she could see her luscious breasts reflected in the glass as if she were offering them to Patti and Sondra, and the friction and pressure of her pelvis against the machine caused a pleasing tingle. The climbing score was giving her a new erotic thrill and she pulled the plunger with a wild abandon now. She thrust her hips forward eagerly, her breasts shimmering over the glass as she caressed the flipper buttons and played the steel ball like a lover. A sharp bolt of ecstasy shot through her as the machine beeped and flashed its delight in the lovely girl.

Patti and Sondra on the playfield seemed to look at her breasts with an inexorable yearning-- Patti’s tongue stretched out and flicked over Candy’s left breast, licking it through the sheer fabric; Sondra’s pouty lips opened wide and engulfed Miss January’s right breast, sucking the nipple deep into her own mouth. Candy felt both playmates reach around to grip and fondle her plump round ass. The excitement made her grind more wildly into the machine as its lights blazed in uncontrolled passion. The score went higher and higher.

Patti and Sondra pulled Candy down to them and the beautiful playmate squealed with delight as she tumbled into the bright hot lights of the playing field. Writhing between the two girls Candy felt Sondra behind her, nuzzling her blonde hair into her neck as she wrapped her arms around Candy and pulled the white blouse open. Candy’s hands were tearing Patti’s teddy to shreds and Patti was kissing her deeply. Little Annie Fannie, her voluptuous body glistening and wet from the grotto, wriggled in among the knot of shapely limbs and curves and she sucked happily on Candy’s magnificent breasts. Sondra was grinding her pelvis into Candy’s squirming bottom and she was twisting her wet tongue in Candy’s ear. Patti thrust her breasts into Miss January’s eager hands and at the same time she began to tear at the tight white pants. The Playboy femlin danced over the four women and tore the white fabric away so Patti’s hungry fingers could plunge into Candy’s honey pot.

Candy screamed an orgasm; she plunged herself deeper into Patti’s hand and screamed again. Her body rattled and shook as the machine went into a ferocious dance, flashing, buzzing, ringing as it came with her.

“All riiight!!” A deep sonorous male voice floated over the machine. Candy opened her eyes to find herself atop the glass, face down, her knuckles pearl white from gripping the sides. She pushed herself up and scrambled around; she slid down on the glass and braced the heel of a boot on the edge of the machine next to hers as her other leg dangled down. She leaned back on her arms and smiled shyly at the man who had joined her.

The basketball player grinned. “Looks like you set a record,” he chuckled, nodding at the scoreboard.

Candy giggled and watched as he moved towards her slowly. His hands were at his side with palms facing her as if he were approaching a wild beast he didn’t want to frighten.

“Do you want to play me?” she said softly. Her eyes couldn’t help but study his muscular body. All he wore was a silk robe and it could do nothing to hide the massive weapon he was carrying. Candy’s tongue darted out for a second, then she smiled shyly again.

“Oh, I’m gonna play you, alright.” He was now at the end of the machine. With one hand he tugged Candy’s leg to pull her forward. Her bottom made a squealing sound across the glass and she found herself with both legs around his hips, her plump rear resting on the bottom of the glass surface.

“You think you can beat my score?” she teased then she sighed, dropping her head back. His large hands were pressing over her bare waist and gliding up to her breasts.

“You know it,” he growled, his face close to hers. Candy was pleased to see his surprise when his eyes dropped to admire the deep cleavage of her chest.

“Like what you see?” she teased huskily.

“That’s a hell of an outfit,” he said. His large hands moved lightly over the surface of her two round juicy breasts.

She shifted away with an exaggerated pout. “You can look, but I didn’t say you could touch.” She squirmed slightly so the two mounds would quiver enticingly. “Besides aren’t you with somebody already?”

The basketball player wasn’t going to be dissuaded from enjoying her luscious gifts; his large hands engulfed them, squeezed them together then gently spread over their entire surface, his touch burning through the insubstantial fabric. “You mean Karen?” he chuckled, but now he was giving the delicious Candy his full attention, savoring her flesh and noting with interest the way her body swayed under his touch; she was biting her lower lip and her eyes were slits. “Sure I was with her; now I’m with you.”

“Oh,” was all she could say; her shoulders rocked back and forth and her hips opened and closed over his. His fingers were under her breasts, lifting their magnificent mass gently while his thumbs etched circles over her nipples.

“You like this, girl, don’t you,” he gloated as she swooned. His eyes drank in her beautiful body as it quavered under him. “You got nice ones. They’re real fine.” Then he added, almost as an after thought:“That Karen was a good fuck, I gotta say.” He noted with approval Candy’s eyes narrowing with jealousy; he gave her breasts a firm, sharp squeeze. “You fuck good, baby?”

“Yesssss,” she hissed, opening her eyes and thrusting her chest further into his hands, her thighs squeezing him tighter.

His fingers continued to probe and caress the creamy flesh of her chest and she swayed slowly and seductively under his spell.

“Yeah, that little blonde was nice, but time now for a little candy.”

“Ummmum,” she agreed in a slow purr.

His hands moved in broad circles around two sweet melons. “Girl, you are so fine.”

“Umhummm.”

“You feel so fine. You taste as good as you feel, baby?”

“Umhummm.”

“You ready to play, baby?”

“Umhummm.”

His tongue impaled her mouth as his fingers dug deep into the soft velvet flesh under her blouse. Her nipples stabbed into his palms; she leaned back on one arm and used her free hand to undo the knot of the blouse.

She kissed him frantically while pushing her breasts up towards the two writhing tongues. His mouth slurped up her sweetness, then enjoyed each nipple in turn. Her pelvis ground into the massive bulge under his robe as she twisted and writhed, impaled on his kisses.

The blouse slid off her shoulders; she eagerly helped him pull it off completely, her zealous compliance to his desires sending a charge of excitement to his loins. Her skin tingled with energy as she peeled the top off her arms. Totally, magnificently, topless she lay back on the glass to give him the best view of her gorgeous body. The pinball lights danced wildly in her eyes. The dark man looked down at the creamy white feast of her two breasts and her sweet angel face, her shapely legs dangling over the end of the machine; he licked his lips wolfishly.

“Yeah, you’re gonna play.” He pulled his robe open and it dropped to the floor. Candy’s hand flew to her mouth to hide her amazement; her other hand crossed protectively over her chest.

The man chuckled at her reaction. “Hey, little playmate, if we’re gonna play I gotta bring my bat don’t I?”

His large hands were probing and searching her legs and hips and thighs; they squeezed under her ass, kneading her flesh and arousing her. “Where the fuck is the zipper…” he muttered, pulling and clawing at the fabric.

“There is no…” she murmured but his brute hands were already twisting the fabric into a tight knot; with a vicious rip the pants tore off her body.

Candy’s eyes smoldered with passion as she looked up at him helplessly. She tried to cover her sex with her hands. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head but the wanton gaze in her eyes revealed her hunger.

Pulling her hands up and pinning them over her head, he bent over the quivering playmate, his face close to hers. His long thick ebony shaft nestled in the already wet curls of her bush. “Don’t be shy, girl; you’re playing in the big leagues now. He released her arms and she kept them in place, groaning as his hand wandered down her voluptuous body and slipped between her legs. A firm finger brushed over her pussy lips. “Looks like you’re all warmed up, baby.”

His body rose off of hers and he stood, still between her legs, his cock still nestled on her bush; the massive shaft stretched over her body like a black snake slithering up her white skin to rest between her breasts. Candy’s eyes flamed like the lights of the pinball machine as she looked at the broad bulbous head glaring at her. Her chest heaved and with a soft smile she shifted her arms so her willowy hands could grip the sides of the machine to steady her body. Her lips parted with a groan as a thick finger dipped deep into her honey, a prelude of the assault ahead of her. She lifted one leg, bracing the heel of the boot on the end of the machine, opening herself to him.

“You like this, candy girl; you like being tickled?”

He drank in the sultry look on her angel face and the quiver of her two milk white breasts, her bright red nipples; her flat belly was fluttering under the dark throbbing monster resting on it and her bush gleamed like stars around the base of his cock. His thick finger was dark against the sweet pink of her pussy lips as she writhed gently against his onslaught.

“You sure look yummy, baby,” he gloated. “I’m gonna do you up nice, give you the deluxe treatment.” His finger probed and prodded inside her moist treasure, a mere taste of the invasion to come. His cock throbbed over her belly, quivering each time the girl trembled underneath it.

“You like this, babydoll?”

Candy’s mouth opened but no words came out; all she could do was nod as she twisted in bliss on his finger.

“You ‘bout ready to play with the big thing?” He jiggled his cock against her belly.

“No,” she gasped and she tried to wriggle away. “I’m afraid,” she whined, still her eyes remained locked on the thick long ebony snake before her.

“Sure, baby, you be scared if you need to be; I’m still gonna do you.” He removed his finger, her sex letting go a satisfying wet pop. He held her legs firmly and felt her trembling beneath him. Her luscious breasts bounced up and down with her heavy breathing and her white skin glowed in the wild light of the pinball machine.

“No please,” she moaned, parting her legs to welcome him.

He had to take a step backwards to find the leverage to position the tip of his cock at her gates. The pace of her breathing quickened as she watched with dread and anticipation; a jolt shot through her when the tip of his shaft seared itself against her pussy. She gripped the sides of the machine and jammed her heel against the edge; her other leg caressed frantically against his side.

“You ready to play, baby,” he growled, gripping her pale thighs with his black fingers.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her eyes narrow slits.

“Here we go.” He leaned back slightly then thrust forward, plunging deep into her in one long endless rush. Candy’s heel slipped, kicking the pinball plunger and sending a steel ball barreling up the chute.

He shot a load of his seed inside her immediately, the heat spread like fireworks and the warm sparks soothed the agony of his massive size roaring into her.

“Ahhhhhhhh,” she groaned as soon as the heat began to fill her; but the sigh was cut short by the shock of his cock getting even harder and more viciously wide as he came.

Candy’s velvet sheath tightened around the black invading monster, her sex muscles rippling over the throbbing beast, playing it expertly. He thrust in and out of her and the steel ball followed the passionate rhythms, bouncing between the bumpers as the garish lights and bells blazed violently. Sometimes he played her with short quick jabs, expertly targeting the head of his cock deep inside her to find her most sensitive spots; sometimes he took long slow luxurious strokes, leaning back to pull the length of his shaft almost all the way out, then sinking in just as slowly and letting the beast caress her tight velvet tunnel. Her body danced to his tune and she looked at him with grateful eyes no matter how hard he hammered her. The lights and bells of the pinball machine flashed and clanged in lusty pandemonium; the numbers on the scoreboard kept rolling up and up as if measuring Candy’s bliss. She wrapped her legs around him, her hands holding the sides of the pinball machine, and she rode his steel shaft while the machine exploded under her, the steel ball crashing everywhere.

“Good girl, good sweet little Candy.”

In and out he drilled; the howl of the machine competing with the howls of the girl to urge him on. The numbers spun crazily. She felt so hot, so tight, her honey oozed over his cock as he hammered on, over and over inside the writhing playmate. The man bent down and kissed her mouth and breasts.

"Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm," she moaned, jutting her chest up into his face; her sweat soaked body was sliding up and down on the slick glass as he continued to pump in and out of her sweetness. "Ooohhh yeeessss,” she purred feeling him grow even larger inside her.

Candy rolled her head from side to side as he raised himself up; he leaned back to get a better angle on her slit and smashed into her soft wet sex. "Ooooooooooooo," she sang out as fireballs shot up her spine with each thrust.

“That’s right baby you take it all in; you ride my big thing.”

The steel ball finally rolled away but the man shot another one up the shoot as he rammed mercilessly into her tender body. The machine burst into a conflagration of lights and bells under writhing, bucking girl. She arched her back and he rammed in deeper. Her head pressed against the glass, her eyes rolled back -- Patti McGuire, Sondra Theodore, and the publisher loomed above her in the back-glass gazing down on her and watching with approval as the score went through the roof. Candy watched as Patti’s hands reached out to fondle Miss January’s quaking, heaving breasts; Sondra pushed her own bikini bottom off and lowered her pussy over Candy’s waiting tongue. Little Annie Fannie pushed a wet finger up into Candy’s tight, sweat soaked bottom. The Playboy femlin danced over Candy’s writhing body, seemingly everywhere at once; the tiny sprite plucked up drops of Candy’s sweat as if they were flowers. Candy panicked when the femlin slid down her belly and climbed onto the man’s shaft; riding it like a bucking bull, before disappearing into Candy’s velvet tunnel.

“No, no, no, oh God, no,” Candy begged as the Playboy femlin guided the tip of the huge black cock over the secret spots inside her, each touch causing a comet of bliss to vibrate through Miss January’s struggling body.

“Noooooo,” Candy began to howl in protest and pleasure before Patti’s mouth nudged Sondra’s thighs off her face and Patti’s tongue intertwined with Candy’s.

In and out the man pistoned like a machine; the steel ball raced wildly and the lights screamed with ecstasy. Candy’s shapely legs were now straight up in the air over his chest with her boots resting on his shoulders. Her sex soaked body rained sweat onto the glass as her body arched higher and higher, her whole body supported by her head and her arms still gripping the sides of the machine.

He watched transfixed as Candy’s tongue licked greedily over her lips, making them glisten with a sexy sheen, and her breasts heaved and quivered as if he was mauling the milking flesh still. Her hips would thrust up into him, seemingly in response to a shove into her juicy ass. Her sex squeezed tighter and tighter around his cock; he wanted to fuck her forever as her moans and the pinball machine’s screams begged for more.

A dozen bolts of bliss had rocketed through her and now the big one came. Candy’s sweat soaked bottom slapped up and down over the glass with loud smacking noises and rocking the steel ball to more points. The Playboy femlin, riding the tip of the man’s cock, ripped handfuls of Candy’s nerve ending up and took two massive coils of these sparking nerves and held them up victoriously, like two massive electric wires downed by a hurricane, then she touched them together and Candy burst into fire. Her spine stiffened and she rattled against the glass, gushing over the cock and the femlin inside her. She saw a rainbow of colors as the pinball machine shared in her bliss. The numbers rolled on and on, the bells clamored in victory, and the lights were a flood of comets all around her. On and on she exploded, twisting over the shaft deep inside her. Her nude sweat soaked body slithered over the pools of her own sexsweat on the slick glass. The Playboy femlin stroked the cock with her thighs and the man shot into Candy, deep and hot. Candy felt the fire oozing through her.

“That’s the high score,” she gasped just before she fainted.

[stardust2003]

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POSH AND ME AUDIO
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[keats]

October, 1959.

Robert felt awkward at best. He had never been at a TV studio before and here he was about to be ON television. Just a few hours ago he had been at lunch with his old friend Rhett; Robert was visiting Chicago on business and had looked up his old school chum from the University of Mississippi. Rhett was a real old style Southerner but he had adjusted to life in the North and a successful career in television; today he was helping to produce a new show and needed people for a crowd scene or something. “Hey, why don’t you come down and see the action,” Rhett urged, adding with a chuckle, “A lot of pretty girls, guaranteed.”

“Rhett,” Robert declared with a hint of prudish bemusement, “You are turning into a real Yankee.” But he took the address and time for the show anyway.

Robert arrived at the studios of WBKB-TV in Chicago and immediately was whisked into a make-up room. They decided he didn’t need make-up but they made him change his tie. The set was blocked by enormous light stands and even more enormous cameras. The crew was bustling around quietly but with a sense of urgency that impressed Robert. But then he was led onto to the set which turned out to be a replica of an enormous living room filled a lively party crowd.

Robert mingled with the other “guests” and slowly learned about the “party” he was now part of. The host was a famous men’s magazine publisher. Robert didn’t approve of that kind of magazine though. Entertaining the party was a comedian but he seemed to be on drugs he was talking so fast. Lenny Something. The show was called Pl@yb0y Playhouse or Penthouse or something. Robert wouldn’t be having too much fun, except the room was packed with beautiful women. Especially that one.

Robert stared longingly at the exquisite vision across the room talking and laughing with Rhett; she was short, petite really, but with an awesome hourglass figure. She was wearing a simple white silk dress that looked more like a layer of skin. Her ample bosom was displayed nicely and the thin straps revealed all of her soft shoulders and her exquisite back. Robert didn’t know it but she was 5’5” and 37-22-36, a perfect package of feminine sexuality. He turned away and scanned the room filled with mostly middle-aged men and beautiful and busty women. Some were couples, some single and some cruising to pick up a one-night stand. The men were dressed casually in conservative but expensive taste while the women were dressed in sexy tight dresses emphasizing their features with blatant displays of ample cleavage and leg.


His attention was drawn again to the beautiful young girl across the room; she was perhaps of similar age to his eldest son- about 20. The instructions for the shoot were to watch the acts for the party but he could not help but longingly stare at luscious young girl; she had such an angelic child-like beauty, with what his generation called 'peaches and cream' complexion, plus a small cute nose set between sparkling blue eyes and full inviting lips. Her silken blond hair cut short in short curly waves highlighting her slender neck.

She was petite, pure in facial feature but below her angelic face was as womanly a body as inhabited any man's fantasy. He looked again at the curves of her swelling cleavage and noticed that traces of her nipples were visible even from across the room and even when she turned around he couldn’t stop staring at her delicious shoulders and back, naked in the revealing dress, the white silk hugging the sensuous curves of her slender waist and spread tightly around the most beautiful little ass he had ever seen. The white silk clung to her hips flaring in arresting curves and stopping dangerously at her thighs, only a few inches of fabric separating him from a view of her panties. Robert had heard about miniskirts but had never seen one before.

He wondered what kind of panties she wore beneath the thin layer of white silk. She looked like the kind to wear string bikinis not g-strings she seemed a little subtle at least, probably white silk to match the stunning body-hugging dress.

He let his eyes fall to scan her long shapely legs, bare and smooth to her slender ankles, the contours of her legs emphasized by the thin strapped black stilettos.

She was having an incredible effect on him just standing there across the room. The place was full of beautiful and sexy and friendly young women but all he could see was her. The comedian finished up and after some applause an assistant announced to the crowd that they should just keep mingling and enjoying themselves while the crew worked on the next set-up. Even while the assistant gave instructions, Robert’s attention stayed on the shapely girl.

He was conscious of her walking now, towards him. She was smiling brilliantly, a flash of perfect teeth surrounded by tempestuous ruby lip and looking right at him with her sparkling blue eyes. Before he knew it she was standing in front of him and offering her hand in introduction.

“Hi Robert, I'm Stella Stevens. Rhett told me you’re a good ol’ boy from Mississippi? Well, me too.” Then she giggled, “No, I mean I’m from Mississippi; I’m not a good ol’ boy. I’m more a naughty girl.” She grinned at him in a warm and friendly way.

“Oh, pleased to meet you Miss Stevens. Yes, ma’am, I from Mississippi all right. Where abouts do your folks hail from?”

She giggled and pushed a lock of her hair to one side revealing her pretty little ears, decorated with a diamond encrusted drop earrings. She was classy and expensive to maintain. He couldn't help staring at her and his eyes flicked nervously over her delicious cleavage and darted back to her angelic face.

“'Call me Stella. I may be the guest of honor here but don't stand on formality. I was born in Yazoo City but we have no people there now. We moved to Memphis when I was a little girl.”

“Why are you the guest of honor?”

She laughed again, a hearty and lusty teasing in the melodic sounds. “Don’t you know? You must be the only man here who doesn’t. I’ve just shot my photos to be Miss January?”

“Miss January? What’s that?”

The shapely Stella took a step back and looked him over from head to toe. She furrowed her brow and tried to pout but her enchanting smile kept bursting through.

“You really don’t get around much do you? Pl@yb0y Magazine? Centerfold? Pl@ym@te of the Month?” In a graceful swish of the silk of her dress, she struck a teasing pinup pose, hand behind head, chest thrust forward in provocation. She smiled at him but her eyes were inquisitive.

Robert nodded, “Yes, I heard of that magazine but I’ve never read it. I’m not sure I like what I’ve heard about it.”

Now Stella’s pretty eyes were frowning for real. “Humph, I noticed you looking at me from across the room and Rhett told me about your divorce and I thought you looked kind of sweet and vulnerable but if you’re going to be a Bible thumping, disapproving red neck then ...”

Robert held up his hand, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I meant no offense. I’m sure it’s a fine magazine. How could it be anything else with a fine young woman like you working for it.”

Immediately Stella’s alabaster skin flushed a bright pink and she smiled again showing her gleaming teeth. “Oh, that’s better. I was counting on you keeping me company tonight.” She gestured to the host of the party who was surrounded by producers and the director as they planned the next sequence. “Mr. Hefner is supposed to be my date but he’s too excited about all the cameras.” She tentatively touched his shoulders with her delicate fingertips. “You wouldn’t mind being my escort tonight?”

Robert was uncertain what to say; he was stunned to say the least. This vision, this fantasy had just chosen him out of every man in the room.

“Then I guess that makes me the envy of every guy in the room to even be entertaining the thought that you'd spend time with me. I'm honored! If I was staring at you it was only that I think you are unbelievably pretty; I haven’t been keeping company with anyone since my divorce but you’ll be the object of my fantasy for quite some time, honestly.”

Robert was pleased with how confident he sounded in this reply; he had overcome the lump in his throat though the lump in his pants was still acknowledging the proximity of this sensuous creature.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before replying and smiled when she noticed him looking at the outline of her nipple pressing against the fine sheen of silk that stretched across them. She glanced down at the hardening outlines and smiled.

“You really haven’t been with a woman in a while? How long has it been?”

Now Robert was blushing. “I guess it’s been nearly a year now.”

Stella whooped and immediately blushed even more. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She pressed her slender fingers over her luscious lips. “It’s just I can’t imagine ... And such a good looking man ...” Again she was looking him up and down. When she met his eyes she followed his gaze back to her now clearly erect nipples. Again she grinned as she continued to blush.

“See you’re making me excited already! The truth is I like older men; I like the attention I get from them; I like how they take their time making love…”

“I beg your pardon,” he sputtered. “Really young lady…” he announced, hiding behind indignity.

Luscious Stella Stevens would have none of that. “Oh come on,” she interrupted with a lilting laugh, “It’s almost 1960! A new decade; pretty soon everybody will have a color TV. Just think of the progress!” she gushed. Then her voice oozed out in a silky purr, “A girl can say what she’s thinking nowadays.”

“I…” he sputtered again.

“So,” she cooed sexily, “How long did you say it’s been? A year?”

He mumbled shyly.

“I bet you’re a good lover. Older men are always so good. I love how they savor each moment because they want to enjoy my body slowly and sensuously; I love how they use their experience with women to make me really, really excited.”

Robert’s ears were bright crimson. He had never heard a woman talk that way. He’d never heard anybody talk that way. He was almost trembling at the thought of what she was saying and, when combined with the image of her creamy round breasts straining in the tight dress and the nipples hardening before his eager eyes, the lump in his pants swelled noticeably.

Stella glanced down at his growing lump and smiled again. “I see the attraction is mutual.” Her tongue darted out, glistening pink. “Rhett told me that your anatomy had a certain equine quality, and I can see that he wasn’t wrong.”

Stultified, he stared in clueless wonder. She stood on tiptoe and whispered, “He said you’re hung like a horse.”

Breathing in her magnolia sweetness, he nodded eagerly.

The succulent Southern Belle let out a sultry sigh. “Why don't we just go somewhere and make it because I'm unbelievably turned on right now.”

He couldn't believe his ears or his eyes. This was the fastest sexual preamble he had ever experienced. Was she teasing or having a joke at his expense?

He didn't have time to contemplate it. She held out her hand and led him off the soundstage. “I didn’t care for that comedian anyway!” she giggled. She led him to the hallway and up the stairs into one of the dressing rooms, closed the door and turned and put her arms around him and leaned back against the locked door.

“You do want me don't you?” She purred seductively. Robert nodded and groaned heavily. “Then make me hot and take me.” She leaned close to him and kissed him, tenderly sliding her moist red lips across his and tonguing him sensuously. Their lips shivered in anticipation and trembled with desire. Each touch increasing in urgency and passion as they kissed and sucked urgently at each other. She cooed in appreciation. “Touch me, make me hot!” she urged.

He slid his hand to her plump ass and pressed her against his swelling cock, grinding against her like a teenager aching for his first taste of sex. Her kisses increased in intensity and she moaned and traced lines around his neck with her long red fingernails sending shivers through him. He nibbled her neck and ear lobes and covered her with kisses and slid his hand beneath her dress to feel her warm rear encased in shiny soft silk.

She was indeed wearing silk panties. They were so diaphanous and flimsy as to reflect the warmth of her delicious ass. He kissed his way down her neck until he stared down her silk clad breasts. He shifted a hand to cup them and continued fondling her ass, kissing her and teasing her nipple through the fabric until they were rock hard. She moaned as he ran his thumb around the outline then squeezed them hard; she winced but then smiled angelically at that sweet combination of pleasure and pain.

He slid his hand beneath the tight silk and cupped her naked breast. The fabric shifted to the side so her beautiful breasts sat exposed and inviting. He could not resist attacking them with his tongue and suckling them as she writhed in desire; she loved it! Loved him touching her body, writhing ecstasy climbing up her quivering spine.

“Feel me all over. I need it; touch me down there please!” Robert needed no further invitation and he glanced around the room and found a nearby single bed. He hadn't noticed before that the room had nothing in it except the narrow bed and a mirrored makeup table. As she sat on the edge of the high single bed her ultra short dress rode up to reveal the white silk panties he had guessed she wore. His fingers brushed the small silk triangle that covered her pussy and he felt the surge of wetness that filled them and gasped with excitement.

Stella panted, “Oh yes, touch me there.” and his fingers began to stroke her lips through the moist silk, S tellashivering and panting “Oh yes” breathlessly and repeatedly.

Encouraged by this early success Robert concentrated on rubbing her clit through the shiny silk panties and in moments she came not just once and not quietly either; she squealed and shivered in repeated orgasms. As she came she teased his neck, alternating between passionate bites and tender kisses mixed in with her excited moans. No matter what Robert did with his hands and fingers she exploded in earth-shattering squeals, shivers and cries.

“Do I feel good? Do you like touching me?” Stella cooed sexily. He slid her panties aside and felt the warm wetness of her sweet pussy swirl around his fingers. He pressed one into her tight hole and she convulsed in pleasure and begged him to put more in. Two fingers fit tightly into her and he thrust them deep inside her and teased her clit with a banging action each time he thrust.

Stella bucked urgently against his thrusts and recommenced her cycle of perpetual orgasms. This time however past coherence, her helpless body collapsed into panting “Oh god I'm coming!” over and over again, as indeed she was.

Robert was so turned on his cock was bursting over the top of his shorts. He was worried he might lose control just kissing and fondling her.

After a violent climax Stella beckoned him to stop and she kissed him appreciatively and stood up. Her dress had been pulled up over her hips and the thin fabric stretched between her breasts. She reached down, took hold of the hem of her dress and peeled it over her head and flung it to the floor. She slid into the pinup pose again, hands behind head, naked breasts thrust forward. She posed, bold and proud, nude except for her white silk panties. She adjusted them covering her pussy again, and fondled her own breasts seductively and looked at the impossibly distorted lump that filled Robert's pants.

"Robert,” she whispered, biting her thumb and looking demurely at the floor, “Robert baby, would you take my panties off for me?”

He grinned and knelt in front of Stella’s luscious and shapely body. He took hold of the elastic of the flimsy panties between his teeth and used his mouth to pull them down her legs. She squealed with delight as she stepped out of them and he flung them away. Then he licked her leg up and ran his tongue up to her sexy navel.

Giggling and squirming with glee Stella took hold of his head and drew him up off his knees. She kissed Robert sweetly while she loosened his belt and let his pants fall to the ground. He hurriedly kicked his shoes and socks off as she ripped off the tie and unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest with each popped button until all he wore was his shorts. She kissed him longingly and slid her hand inside his shorts to touch his aching cock. The moment her hand circled it gently he felt a huge throb and he knew he was too close to bursting.

“Mmmmmm you are excited.” she purred. “I know what to do about that” and she began stroking his cock with featherlike touch with one hand and running her fingernails lightly across his swollen balls with the other. He moaned excitedly and felt the throbs increase to crisis proportion then felt her pinch the rim and hold it tightly until the throbs subsided.

She started again teasing his thick shaft with her slender fingers, stroking to a rhythm that made him swoon with excitement. Her fingernails grazing his balls so lightly as to send shiver through him. As the throbs overtook him again and he felt his impending explosion, she stopped and squeezed his cock rim again in just the right place to quell the explosion. The ejaculation ceased but the orgasm continued and he found himself doubled over with pleasure and moaning loudly. She could have written for the Kinsey Report she was so expert on how to treat a man.

“I'm glad you're enjoying it. Mmmmm and you are so big and hard. You look good enough eat.” As she spoke the word 'eat' his cock spurted a little drop and throbbed violently at the thought of her delectable mouth on it.

She smiled and slid to her knees and deftly licked the dribble of semen that oozed from his cock. Too aroused to be shocked, he let out a long low moan as her lips touched his hypersensitive tip and he shivered involuntarily as she lapped at his cock greedily.

Her hands began massaging his cock more firmly now as she began to envelop his tip with her moist warm mouth and she pumped at his shaft and sucked hard at the tip while flickering her tongue over it with each withdrawal. She teased his balls wildly until the tingles and shivers overcame him once more and he could feel a giant flood of seed welling up in him. He was about to burst; there was no choice; he could no longer help himself.

The pleasure and intensity was overpowering; he felt the first spurt and the orgasm came like a white flash before his eyes dizzy with pleasure. He was shaking with desire, wave after wave of pleasure passing over him until he became conscious that she was once more holding back the full force of his tidal wave. He looked down at her angelic face and saw her blue eyes wide with excitement as her fulsome lips wrapped around him; she swallowed and licked greedily holding his explosive weapon tightly pincered against further escaping seed.

As his cock ceased throbbing and the pleasure subsided to a sensuous afterglow she quickly licked the tip clean and guided his cock to her lush warm breasts and then pressed her taut nipples against his cockhead. “Do you want to be inside me?” She teased as she slid his cock between her breasts and squeezed them, greeting the tip with her warm wet mouth and slurping loudly.

“Oh god yes!” he blurted. “God I want to have you so badly.”

“Mmmmm I know you do honey and I want you inside me too. I'm so wet, so tight, so hot for you, but I think you need a little rest before you blow my brains out with that beautiful cock of yours. Don't you?” she said seductively.

She stood letting his distorted cock drop from her hands and stood to kiss him with her sticky lips. He pulled her to him desperately feeling her divine skin beneath his touch, caressing her sweet curves and fondling her exquisite ass and kissing her as gently and lovingly as if this was his first kiss ever or his last. She moved against him and he was conscious of his hardness touching her wet bush.

“I want you to kiss my pussy until I come.” she cooed as she lay back across the single bed, spreading her legs so that she was reflected in the mirrors on the counter. She began to stroke her dewy bush. “Come and eat me, make me so hot that I scream and then do me hard and deep and fast. Eat me, then do me with that delicious cock!”

She began to writhe and shiver as her fingers pressed her clit. Robert fell to his knees and began kissing her inner thigh as she continued to moan and call him to “make me come.” He dispensed with subtlety and kissed his way quickly to her crotch and inside her leg and planted a huge wet kiss on her pussy lips.

The scent of her filled him with desire as he felt the dampness of her juices. His first kiss on the hungry pink lips of her pussy triggered a wave of shivers and pants and as she moaned appreciatively he began to suck at her clit.

Her first orgasm was tumultuous and she convulsed unexpectedly, quickly and then another and another followed it as he suckled and teased her swollen clit and massaged her labial folds. As she grew use to his touch her violent squealing and urging him to suck her harder began to abate, as waves of pleasure became the norm.

He sucked at her clit again while shoving three fingers into her aching pussy plunging deep inside her feeling the wetness squirt from her tightness and her wet velvet folds envelop his fingers contracting around them as she convulsed in another delectable orgasm. She bucked and panted “Fuck me now, from behind, do me fuck me with your beautiful cock.”

He withdrew his fingers from her and reached for two pillows from the bed and placed them beneath her as she bent over the bed, then stood up and grasped her hips from behind. His cock level with her sumptuous ass. He pressed his aching cock against the swollen slit eagerly. The first touch of her dampness made him throb and he savored the feeling of wetness that drizzled on his cock tip and ran down the inside of her thighs. “Fuck me, do me now,” she begged.

He wasted no time; his engorged shaft pushed into her ultra tight pussy. He loved the unbelievable tightness of this sexy young woman, the sheer excitement of her gushing arousal made him feel like he had the biggest cock in the world going into the tightest pussy on earth.

As his cock slid deep into her she shivered and her pussy which at first relaxed to take his hugeness into her contracted around him like a vice. “Oh god it's so goooood you’re so big so hard Fuck me deep, deep, deep, deep!” She squealed; it was urgent now, they had waited for an eternity for this moment and now they both had to have it hard, fast deep and as urgently as possible.

Robert slammed his cock into her as she requested, his balls slapping her clit as he thrust deep inside her. She gyrated against his thrusts and her pussy's muscular contractions seemed to match his throbs. He felt like a stud in a pornographic film as his expert thrusts built her slowly and dynamically to climax.

The shivers and tingles that passed through Stella seemed to envelop her whole body and translate into floods of wetness, incoherent screams and shouts and contractions that clamped his cock like a vice almost sucking him into her with each stroke. She let out a rebel yell that they must have heard on Michigan Avenue.


She came like a tsunami, screaming and shuddering and shouting “God I love your cock!” When it subsided he pulled from her and they kissed and reconnected, facing one another and fucked again until she came again equally as intensely. Robert couldn't believe he hadn't come yet. He lost track of time; they had been fucking and teasing for hours. They fucked in all kinds of positions with Robert manipulating her legs and body like a rag doll to bring her off repeatedly, her delectable body twisting into impossible shapes only to take his cock inside her at angles that found an ever multiplying supply of spots that resulted in orgasm.

Finally Robert lay panting beside her and they kissed sweetly and Stella straddled him and slid his aching cock into her. “Lay back honey I'm gonna make you come like you've never come before. I want you to come with me I want us to enter the gates of heaven together.”

Robert knew he had already entered the gates of heaven and they were closing around his cock, swirling in ecstasy.

She took him deeper than he thought possible, their bodies touching at their groins were so close as to be as one. Then she rose up high almost letting his cock escape except for the sensitive tip. She let her juices run down the shaft and clenched her pussy muscles around the tip tightly then plunged down hard and repeated the procedure getting faster and deeper with each stroke.

Robert grabbed her ass and felt it wiggle on him and guided it onto him as she bounced on him in a frenzied rhythm. Her deliciously large breasts bouncing tempestuously in time with her furious ride. He reached up to touch them and she grunted and ground against him. He could feel the orgasm welling inside him and thrust up at her as she bounced. Her eyes rolled back into her as if she was in some kind of sexual trance and she was silent, struggling to hold her breath. No sound, no moan, no breathless panting.

The white light crossed his vision; he was about to explode fought to hold back helplessly, but then she began to scream “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh god I'm comming, Come in me now, fill me up I want to feel you in me OOOOOOOOOOOH”

She screamed and collapsed on him face forward covering him in urgent frenzied kisses. He held her soft skin and kissed her back, feeling her tight pussy contract around his throbbing distorted aching cock. They held each other completely still, his cock buried deep in her pulsing wetness and he exploded like nothing he had ever felt before; he squirted bucket loads of hot sticky seed into her and her pussy seemed to suck his cock into her deeper and the two lay entwined moaning incoherently as waves of orgasm passed over them ceaselessly.

He was conscious that he held her plush ass cheeks in his hand and he was pressed so hard against her as to feel her cervix with his tip. Still his cock throbbed and squirted and she contracted and dripped hot juices. They ground against each other and prolonged their pleasure for as long as they could and helplessly kissed and fondled each other as the orgasms slid into a dreamlike afterglow.

It was sometime before Robert was conscious enough to notice the sound he heard. It was Stella slipping on her shoes as she walked out the door. She turned and gave him her widest grin, then blew a kiss and was gone.

Some weeks later he was in New York during the Christmas season and standing outside of Macy’s; a crowd was lined up to see the store’s display, “The Fantasy of Christmas.” He shrugged and turned to the corner where a large newsstand displayed hundreds of the latest magazines; out the colorful cacophony of Christmas colors one title stood out from the rest: the January issue of Pl@yb0y Magazine. He stood there wondering if he should buy it as the snow came down.

[keats]

Greg nervously tapped the steering wheel with his fingers waiting for his dad to come out of the house. The engine purred softly and Greg hummed in unison to mask his anxiety. His dad could be mercilessly cruel and the older man was in a foul mood because he hated to fly and now he had to fly across the ocean. A door slammed and the young man looked up, startled. His father stomped towards the car and tossed a bag in the back seat. He yanked open the passenger door and plopped down. “Drive,” he barked sullenly.

The two were silent on the way to the airport, Greg studiously watching the traffic to avoid his father’s wrath and his father studiously studying legal documents to avoid thinking about the long long flight. Greg’s dad was an entertainment lawyer with an exclusive clientele of Pl@ym@tes and Pl@yb0y models. He had been dispatched to seal a deal for some special girls who the publisher was certain would make a sensational centerfold feature. He pulled out the Dutch edition of Pl@yb0y and scanned the twins again. Karin and Mirjam van Breeschooten stared at him with sultry gazes exponentially more than doubled in sexual power; twins, yeah, that was the ticket. He didn’t give a fuck about pronouncing their names correctly. He glanced out the window at the LA traffic, then looked back at the magazine. Twins, baby…he picked up their birth certificates; even though he couldn’t read Dutch it was easy enough to do the math. Nineteen, naked, perfect. He patted the plane ticket in his pocket and smiled to himself.

Fourteen hours later he was in a corporate law office in Amsterdam. His translator was grinning because it had just occurred to the American lawyer that everybody in this country spoke English; it might be funky mixed up English but it was good enough. The American lawyer pushed another paper across the table to the Dutch representatives of the twins. “OK, enough dicking around. Sign here and let me see the girls.”

“Dicking? Around? Is this Nixon you are speaking of?” The Dutch lawyer and the translator grinned to each other, enjoying the slow burn of the American.

“Ha, ha,” the American snorted and he blew some cigar smoke across the table. “I’m flying back in twenty-four hours. You signing? You gonna produce the girls? I got better things to do.”

With a flourish of his fountain pen the Dutch lawyer signed. “Of course, of course, you are impatient to be home. And the girls, well, they are not present at this time.”

“Well shit,” the American growled, “Where the fuck are they? I am supposed to bring them back with me.” He spread out three airline tickets on top of the just signed document.

“Patience, patience, my American colleague. All will be settled to your satisfaction.” He watched as the American scrawled his signature over another document and pushed it across. Taking this paper up and sliding it into a folder the Dutch lawyer smiled again. “The girls, the young ladies if you please, they are already packed and will be at your hotel.”

It was the American’s turn to grin as he rose, stuffing papers into his valise. “Well, Hans, I guess my work here is done.”

Two hours later the American lawyer was back in his hotel room fuming again; after the meeting he had dismissed his translator because he realized everybody here spoke English. Of course, he was then lucky enough to get the only cabbie in Amsterdam that not only didn’t speak English but also didn’t speak any other recognizable language; the ten minute cab ride took over an hour and now the lawyer never wanted to see another dike or windmill ever again. When he staggered finally to the desk of the hotel for his messages he was told the van Breeschooten twins had been there and left twenty minutes ago because he had not shown up. So he was alone in the room and letting himself get more and more pissed off at being there.

He had taken a shower in an effort to distract himself and he lay on the bed wearing only the terrycloth robe. He had fished around in the hospitality basket and pulled out a bottle of what looked like booze. Absinthe the label said. Shit, the weird green liquid had to be booze. With a disdainful snort he pulled out the cork and put the bottle to his lips as he flopped onto the bed.

The fiery wormwood liquid flooded down his throat and he was shocked by its power but almost immediately the liquor had a calming effect on him. He stared up at the ceiling as the pungent potion oozed over his body. He knew he was awake but he kept seeing dreamlike visions of two buxom blondes bouncing on his bed. When the door opened and Mirjam and Karin bounced into the room he thought it was part of his dream. He blinked and shook the bottle, trying to make sense of what was happening.

The two blonde beauties giggled and pranced around the bed after tossing their luggage into a corner. Although they were only five foot five, the sight of them paired together made the stupefied man see them as giants. One of them pinched his cheeks and mewed, “Oh Mr. American Lawyer, you are so handsome and rugged. Like a cowboy.”

The other picked up the bottle and whooped with delight. “Sister dear, look, it is absinthe. This is not a cowboy liquor,” she scolded playfully, “This is a poet’s drink! Are you a poet too, Mr. Lawyer.”

“I’m….” he tried to respond but his words sank back caught in the powerful liquid flooding his brain.

“We must drink too,” one of the girls sang out, “To celebrate our flying with you.”

“No, first sex,” the other corrected primly, “We must learn the American sex so we do well for Mr. Money Bags, Mr. King of the Pl@yb0ys. The Great Creator of the Glorious Pl@ym@te World.”

The lawyer blinked again and tried to lift his mind out of the deep pool it was in.

“Yes, sex before flying,” the other girl agreed, who was who he struggled to figure out as she spoke. “We must practice for the Mr. Hefner. And sex on the plane will be good too. But first we must drink with our American cowboy poet lawyer lover.”

“Is he our lover? He does not look so strong right now.” This girl rubbed his crotch as she spoke. “Not so eager either,” she tsked. The lawyer glared down at his unready equipment and cursed the booze.

“Oh, he will be ready,” the other one said as she darted around the room collecting glasses and spoons onto a tray. “Everything in America is big. Big Mac, Big Apple, Big Dick.”

The girl leaning over his crotch gave it another squeeze. “I’m not so sure,” she teased, then she flopped down next to him and raised the bottle into the air. “But we will drink and see if Mr. Lawyer is Mr. Big Dick too.” Her sister, balancing a tray on her lap, sat on his other side.

He looked from face to face and the fact that they were twins was too confusing for his addled brain. “Which one is which,” he mumbled in frustration.

“I am Mirjam and she is Karin,” the girl on the left laughed.

“No,” the other one giggled, “I and Mirjam and the silly girl in your left is Karin.”

Shit, he thought to himself.

Both girls clapped and laughed at his misery. “Do not pout Mr. American about what difference is who we are. You will sex both of us!” the girl on the right giggled.

“Have sex,” the other girl corrected in a surprisingly prime voice. “He will be having sex with both of us…if his cock is big and hard like a cowboy.”

“Your name? You must give us a name,” the one on the right purred close to his face. Then she twisted a warm wet tongue deep into his ear.

“I’m fucking Dean Moriarity,” he roared, for some reason naming himself after a character from a book he read in college. What was in that liquor, he wondered. His hand reached up to one of the four delicious breasts and was immediately slapped down.

“No, no, no, drink first, then sex,” said Mirjam, or was it Karin?
The one he decided to call Karin began an elaborate ritual with the bottle and the glasses. First she poured generous portions of the exotic liquor into three strangely shaped glasses; the pale green color looked menacing. She had a specially designed slotted spoon which she placed over one of the glasses. She picked up a sugar cube and rubbed it on her sister’s lips. “For flavor,” she giggled. Then she deposited it in the bowl of the spoon. Ice-cold water dripped over the sugar and into the glass until the solution clouded into milky opalescence. “Louche,” Karin whispered proudly, admiring her handiwork.

‘Dean’ reached out with a shaky hand but Mirjam took the glass and held her palm over it while the ritual was repeated two more times. They sipped the powerful drinks in an almost reverent silence and Karin repeated the ritual again; they drank and the ritual was repeated one more time.
Dean simply let the intoxicating power rush over him like a wave. The twins tugged at the towel and admired his slowly stiffening tool but still they would not let him touch them.

“Not hard enough Cowboy Dean,” Mirjam or maybe Karin whined teasingly.

“I know,” Karin if it wasn’t Mirjam squealed, clapping with joy. “We will show him our wrestling!”

Wrestling? OK. Dean nodded and sank back into the bed thinking they would wrestle there but the girls sprang up. “No, no, Cowboy, we must go to the gym.

They tugged him out of the bed and he stumbled into a pair of shorts and a shirt. In an almost soporific stupor he staggered behind the twins, watching two perfect asses jiggle down the hall. The rush of the elevator made him dizzy and he fell face forward when the doors opened on the gym floor. The twins caught him and turned him towards a door.

“Maybe the cowboy had too much to drink, sister. Maybe a swim.”

Yeah, a swim he thought and he let them guide him towards the pool.
The swimming area was warm and the hot humid air was rushing to his head. With giggles the girls peeled off his shirt and pushed him in. The cold water had a bracing effect but he still felt high. The girls applauded his belly flop; they were dismayed, though, when they saw him immediately joined in the pool by several women who had the same idea of meeting the new American cowboy. Why was every girl in Holland so hot?

Mirjam quickly assessed the situation, then kicked off her sandals and removed her bikini top, releasing a pair of generously full, lightly tanned breasts. She reached behind Karin's back, unclasped her top and pulled it off her shoulders. Grabbing her sister's hand, Mirjam said in a determined voice, "We are going for a swim."

The lawyer caught a glimpse of bouncing bare breasts out of the corner of his eye, and his head turned with a jerk. For a split second, he thought he was seeing double: there, on the patio, were two sets of identical breasts--same size, same shape, same tan lines--belonging to two identical looking girls. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, but the fascinating vision remained.

When the other women in the pool realized they'd lost Dean's attention, their jealous eyes followed his gaze to Mirjam and Karin. Seeing that the two were topless and making a beeline for Dean and not wanting to be shown up by the sexy young girls, each of the women hurriedly removed her own top and threw it aside. By the time the twins had waded through the chest-high water to reach them, the women had surrounded Dean in a tight circle and were all talking and flirting with him at once, each vying for his undivided attention.

Mirjam and Karin were getting frustrated by their inability to get close to their American toy. The other women had succeeded in shutting them out and were monopolizing Dean, questioning him playfully and talking and laughing with him while trying to thrust their bobbing breasts under his nose. The lawyer kept trying to figure out if the absinthe was still making him hallucinate.

Karin glanced at the waterfall at the far end of the freeform, rock swimming pool, glanced back at Dean then got an idea. "Come, Mirjam, we need to swim some laps. Expand our lungs."

Mirjam gave her twin a questioning look. Karin ran her tongue over her lips repeatedly while nodding her head up and down and shifting her eyes to Dean. "Oh! Yes. Let us do it," said Mirjam.

The sisters began to swim underwater laps across the enormous pool, taking deeper and deeper breaths and staying under the water for longer and longer periods of time. After several minutes, Mirjam signaled her readiness to Karin and they made their way back to the circle of bare-breasted women surrounding Dean.

"Excuse us," Mirjam said in a language Dean couldn’t understand as she and Karin pushed and pulled the other women out of their way.

The other women all complained in Dutch, making Dean’s head spin. No more absinthe he resolved for the hundredth time that night.

"Hello," cooed Mirjam, looking up into Dean's confused but very interested eyes. "Don’t you remember us? I'm Mirjam and this is my sister Karin."

"I'm, ah, Dean."

"Hello to you, Dean." As she spoke, Mirjam tried to sneak a peek at the crotch of his trunks to see if that impressive bulge was still there, but the water obscured her view.

"Oh, yeah, hum, hi?" The liquor and the warm water and the attention of all these girls was fogging his brain again. Dean's gaze dropped to her floating breasts and puckered pink nipples then moved across to her sister's matching set, and he felt his still-hardened cock twitch a few times.

"Hello again," said the bemused Mirjam. "Come, there's something we wish to show you." She grabbed one of Dean's arms and urged him toward the deep end of the pool. She turned to the other girls and spoke in Dutch. Then remembering he only spoke English she translated for Dean. "The ladies do not mind if we borrow you for a few minutes, do you know?" she asked with saccharine sweetness. She made an exaggerated face at the women. "We promise to bring him back in one piece."

Giggling, Karin took Dean's other arm and helped her sister pull him away as the women shot daggers at the twins with their eyes. The twins, with their prize, headed to the large, crescent-shaped waterfall that cascaded down several feet into the swimming pool. Passing through the curtain of water, they found themselves in a cave-like pocket of total seclusion.

The concrete wall of the pool had been extended up and over about six feet. Sheets of water fell noisily from the edge, sending up misty sprays as they hit the surface of the pool water and forming a kind of privacy drape around the threesome.

A concrete bench long enough to seat four adults was built into the side of the pool, and the twins pressed Dean to sit down on the bench before sitting down on either side of him. The water came up to Dean's nipples, covering most of his hairy chest but leaving his shoulders exposed to the girls' view.

"So, what did you want to show me?" Dean asked with an excited grin.

"Our breath control," replied Mirjam. She reached underwater, gripped the waistband of Dean's trunks with both hands and wriggled them off his body. She felt rather than saw his erection, and she wet her lips in anticipation. Placing his trunks on the overhead ledge, Mirjam proudly asserted, "Our breath control is outstanding," before filling her lungs with air and ducking her head under the water.

Dean groaned as Mirjam's lips closed around his cock and slowly slid down and up his entire length, the heat of her mouth warming his shaft as she moved over him. She gripped his base with a circled finger and thumb and firmly massaged the bottom inch of his cock as she sucked the bulbous head.

Meanwhile, Karin leaned into Dean and rubbed her breasts against his body, teasing him with her erect nipples, before drawing his head down and kissing him deeply. Dean's hand found one of her breasts and he cupped it and thumbed her stiff bud as he returned her kiss. He pushed his tongue into Karin's mouth; she trapped it with her lips and suckled him hard, mimicking her sister's suckling of his cock.

After about a minute, Mirjam surfaced. Her hand replaced her mouth on Dean's rigid member, and she stroked him as she spoke. "Karin, you must do a turn. You will like him; he is certainly very filling."

Karin eagerly dunked her head and pulled her twin's hand off Dean's cock. As her mouth covered his long shaft, her hand covered his suspended, nearly weightless sac. She heated it with her palm until it loosened and she was able to separate the balls with her fingers. Dean groaned with approval as Karin massaged his balls one at a time, rolling them gently in her hand, while she continued to pleasure his cock with her lips and tongue.

Mirjam had cupped one of her breasts and offered it to Dean's mouth. He took it immediately and began to feast on her nipple as if he were starving, his deep, hungry sucks sending shivers throughout her body. Impulsively, Mirjam grabbed her other breast and lifted it to her own mouth, licked the nipple until it peaked then sucked it with equal vigor.

Dean and Mirjam were both moaning loudly when Karin's smiling face emerged from the water. "You are right," she purred, "I do like him. OK, Mirjam, you will go again."

As Mirjam's hot mouth took its turn on his cock, Karin snuggled against Dean and placed wet kisses on his lips and throat. She trailed her kisses down his chest until she reached a hard, dark nipple. Karin touched her tongue to the tiny bud and got an immediate reaction.

"Ahhh!" Dean groaned as Karin licked his sensitive nipple. When she covered it with her lips and nursed on it, his groan became a yell and his entire body convulsed with a powerful climax.

Mirjam continued to stroke Dean's cock with her mouth as load after load of hot semen shot down her throat. When she was sure she'd milked every last drop from him, Mirjam raised her head out of the water and soundly smacked her lips.

"Oh--oh, man," Dean panted, "that was something else." Awestruck, he looked back and forth between the twins. "You girls sure do have outstanding breath control."

Mirjam flashed a self-satisfied smile. "If you like, we are to give you another demonstration later, after we wrestle."

Karin laughed at the confusion in his face. “We have seen the American Wrestling on our television. Americans like the wrestling so we practice for you. First wrestling then you have sex for us.”
“With us,” her sister corrected.
Ignoring the correction Karin continued. “Our wrestling will make your dick hard and you will like that?”

"I'd like."
The girls gleefully leapt out of the pool and the lawyer stumbled behind as they headed for the gym.
After they dressed, the girls had some difficulty explaining the game to Dean but finally he stood by the timer and held the string for the bell in his hand. His head was spinning but he was determined to have fun. Twins. Dutch twins, first wrestling, then sex; who was he to argue.

The sisters had moved to the center of the wrestling mat.

An enthusiastic cheer rose from the lawyer’s lips as the sisters waved, shook hands then dropped to their knees and squared off against each other. Dean was standing nearby on the mat, ready to referee, and both girls looked up at him and licked their lips simultaneously. He felt his cock stir, and he was suddenly glad the match would only last five minutes.

Mirjam and Karin came together with a clash when the bell rang. As if by pre-arrangement, they immediately ripped off each other's top, releasing their breasts and delighting the lawyer.

Dressed only in tiny thongs, the girls appeared at first glance to be fighting naked. Their rounded butt cheeks quivered sexily and their large, firm breasts swung and smashed together repeatedly as they struggled with each other. Before long, a fine sheen of perspiration covered their bodies, emphasizing the smoothness and healthy color of their skin.

The twins were equally matched in strength, skill and competitiveness, and four and a half minutes into the fight, Dean had no idea who was winning but their writhing sweating bodies made him feel like he was the real winner here. After pulling each other down from a kneeling position, Mirjam quickly snaked her arm around Karin's neck and was able to get her in a headlock. Mirjam pressed the side of her body into her sister and forced her onto her back. Mirjam's left breast was smashed against Karin's face, an erect nipple within a quarter inch of her mouth.

Karin whimpered in pain and frustration, helpless to escape the hold. One of her arms was pinned under Mirjam and the only thing her other arm could reach to grab was Mirjam's toned thigh.

Dean started calling the ten-count, and Mirjam started taunting her sister. "Ha, ha, I am going to win. I have always said I am a better fighter than you, and this must prove it." To emphasize her dominance, Mirjam released some of the pressure on Karin's neck then quickly re-applied it, harder than before.

Desperate to win herself, Karin did the one thing she knew would distract her sister into releasing the hold: she stuck out her moist, pointy tongue and touched it to Mirjam's nipple. Mirjam, still aroused from earlier in pool, shivered and moaned and tried to push it into her sister's mouth. When Karin began flicking her tongue back and forth over the sensitive bud, Mirjam let go of her own wrist, releasing the pressure on her twin, and Dean stopped counting.

As Mirjam's free hand sought her other nipple to pleasure it, Karin grabbed her sister's arm and pried it off her neck then gripped both of Mirjam's hands and rolled over on top of her. Karin planted her knees on either side of Mirjam's body and forced her twin's outstretched arms down to the mat.

Dean made them break it up. "That was not proper," Mirjam hissed at Karin as they rose to their knees to resume wrestling. "I am going revenge you back for that."

The bell rang before Dean could give the command to wrestle. "Which one are you?" he asked as he helped Karin to her feet and raised her hand in victory.

"The better fighter," teased Karin. She told Dean her name and he nodded.

Dean had retrieved both sisters' tops and he gave them to Mirjam after helping her up off the mat. Mirjam pressed her body close to his and whispered, "Go back to your suite. We are to meet you there in 10 minutes." Hard and eager, Dean watched the twins as they walked away, their bare breasts and almost-bare ass cheeks bouncing and swaying with each seductive step.

Dean scratched his head, woozy and confused. He shrugged and left the gym, only to be waylaid by some of the women from the pool. He tried to get away but they insisted that they had to enjoy a drink at the bar together. Ordinarily he would be happy with the attention but he was anxious to get back to the twins. After ordering a round he told the bartender to charge all the drinks to his room. Shit, Pl@yb0y was paying anyway. With a loud gaggle of Dutch complaints rising behind him he bolted from the bar and back to his room.

Mirjam and Karin had taken a quick shower together and were lying on the bed, naked and impatient, when Dean entered the bedroom. As he soon as he was within their reach, the twins sprang to their knees and pulled him onto the bed. “It is time for sex with a big American,” one of them squealed. They made short work of his trunks and shirt then pushed him flat on his back and began their seduction.

Mirjam muscled her way to Dean's cock, shoving her sister aside roughly. She wrapped her greedy lips around him, took him fully into her mouth and sucked hard. She curled her tongue around him, licked and suckled, over and over, and dragged him deeper and deeper into her mouth. Dean groaned with pleasure as she worked his base, gently massaging his sizeable balls, and slid him in and out of her mouth.

"Which one are you?" Dean rasped as Karin knelt beside him and dragged her pretty breasts up and down his torso.

"I am Karin," she said, adding, "I am the one with the birthmark near my mouth." She bent her head and licked at his nipples, her breasts resting like soft pillows on his hard stomach.
Yeah, right, he thought, birthmark.

Karin had both of Dean's nipples pinched lightly between her fingers when she sought out his mouth with hers. After first nibbling and sucking on his full, sensual lips, she thrust her tongue inside and ran it leisurely around his mouth and over his teeth. Dean captured her tongue with his lips and suckled it, drawing an excited moan from Karin as she felt her pussy muscles tighten in response.

Karin broke the kiss and anxiously moved her body on top of Dean's, straddling his shoulders with her knees. She positioned her crotch directly over Dean's mouth then slowly lowered herself and kissed him with her pussy lips, pressing them gently against his mouth in the barest of caresses then slithering them across his lips in a nice wet smooch.

Dean returned Karin's erotic kiss with his own passion. Her long hair tickled his face as he drove his tongue between her nether lips and slid it back and forth along her moist inner flesh, lapping her with flat, broad strokes. After licking around her pussy hole, he stiffened his tongue and thrust it inside, and Karin began a slow ride on his face. His questing tongue found her clit; he was surprised and more than a little excited by the size of it. For several seconds, he circled it with his tongue then sucked the nub between his lips and licked it with a rapid motion.

Mirjam felt Dean's cock jerk inside her mouth, and she decided to take the first ride on it. She gave his balls a gentle squeeze as she pulled her lips off him and rose to her knees. She was about to straddle his hips and impale herself on his steely rod when Karin cried out, "Wait! This is incorrect! What do you think you are doing? You should not have him first, I should get him first! I won the match!"

"Well, I made him come!"

"Only because I was sucking his nipple!"

"I am older than you," Mirjam said with finality.

"By eight meaningless minutes? That is no matter. You know, I am getting sick and tired of you always trying to be the queen and acting like you are better than I. I deserve him first, and I am going enjoy him first!" Karin pushed her sister away from Dean, toppling Mirjam off her knees. She launched herself at Mirjam and soon both twins had their hands locked in each other's hair and were rolling around grappling on the bed.

As arousing as the girls' naked catfight was, Dean broke it up almost immediately. He didn't want either one to get hurt and, more importantly, he wanted to get some pussy.

"All right," panted Mirjam as she rose to her knees after Dean had separated her from Karin. "Let us do it. Right here and right now. The winner is to sex Dean first. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Karin.

Mirjam turned to Dean. "We are going need the whole bed. You are in that chair over there while we settle this."

"So, just how are you girls gonna settle this thing?" asked Dean.

Karin gave him a carnal look and answered, "The same way we have been settling our differences since we were twelve years old. With a pussy fight."

Dean was glad he was already sitting down because her words floored him. "Um, uh, you two pussy fight all the time?"

"Yes," Karin said matter-of-factly. "We started it because our parents did not allow fighting at home. So when we had a problem with each other, one of us would sneak into the other's bedroom at night and we would settle it on the bed. Whoever comes first in the fight, loses. We still settle things that way. And after all these years, Mirjam's and my record are just about even."

Dean had heard about pussy fights--that they were invented by New York fashion models who wanted a way to settle their differences in a real fight but without risking bruises and hence their jobs--but he'd never witnessed one before and never thought he would in this lifetime.

Dean's heart raced and his cock twitched uncontrollably as he watched the twins position themselves for their fight. Seated facing each other, they had spread their legs wide open, placed their hands flat behind them and leaned back on their arms. Their abundant breasts bounced against their chests as they scooted forward and each girl thrust her left leg under her sister's right leg. They lined up their crotches then edged closer and closer to the other until coming to a halt with their pussies just a hair's-breadth apart.

Both girls had been built for pussy fighting. Their engorged, highly-visible clits were even longer than their fully-lengthened nipples.

Except for Mirjam's being a little curlier, the sisters' pussies were identical: Their mounds were only slightly rounded and their outer lips were thin and not particularly long, contrasting greatly with their large, protruding clits. Their shiny inner flesh was a very appetizing shade of pink.

Karin gripped the back of her sister's neck with her right hand, and Mirjam did likewise. Leaning back on their left arms, they used the neck grips to pull themselves together. They stared into each other's eyes, unmoving, until Mirjam cried, "Go." Immediately, they mashed pussies and began to rock their pelvises, grinding them against each other. They shifted their bodies around a few times, jockeying for best position, as each girl tried to avoid a direct rub to her clit while trying to rub her sister's directly.

The twins were already highly aroused and it didn't take long until they were panting and moaning with excitement. Their hips found a steady, sensual rhythm, undulating back and forth as if they were conjoined. Mirjam's eyes had drifted closed, her mind wanting to enjoy the sensations her body was feeling, but she jerked them open when she felt her tension build dangerously close to the breaking point. Karin had won their last pussy-bout and there was no way Mirjam was going to allow her two victories in a row.

Mirjam pulled her hand off Karin's neck and grabbed one of her sister's excited nipples instead. Raising and turning her lower body slightly, Mirjam attacked Karin's pussy from a different angle while tugging on her nipple.

"Oh, ah, ahhh," Karin groaned as Mirjam's clit slipped inside her wet folds and fenced with her own nubby weapon. Her nipple tingled with both pain and pleasure as Mirjam worked it over, and she felt her pussy muscles tighten in turn. Karin knew she was fast approaching her peak; she also knew she was tired of her sister's selfish, bossy ways and was not going to let her have Dean first.

Karin pushed off with her supporting arm and launched herself forward, forcing Mirjam onto her back. With pussies still joined, she covered her twin's body with her own and began a lip-and-tongue attack on one of Mirjam's nipples.

"Ah!" cried Mirjam. "Not fair, you bitch! Remove your mouth from my nipple!" She grabbed a handful of Karin's hair and tried pulling her sister's face away from her sensitive bud while furiously rubbing her clit with her own. Although her groans became much louder, Karin continued to nibble and suck away, even when Mirjam twisted the nipple she still had pinched between her fingers.

Dean's groin was throbbing with almost unbearable tension as he watched the twins' erotic battle. He was incredibly hot and hard, the skin over his balls stretched tight. His cock pulsed in his hand but he forced himself not to stroke it, knowing just a few firm strokes would have him shooting his load and wanting to save his erection for the winner's juiced-up pussy.

Between Karin's talented mouth on her breast and her sister's thrusting clit in her pussy, Mirjam nearly lost it. In desperation, she rolled their bodies over, using Karin's hair for leverage, and assumed the dominant position. Figuring two could play her sister's game, Mirjam gripped one of Karin's breasts and brought it to her mouth as she continued a grinding assault on Karin's pussy.

Karin had kept her lips stubbornly clamped on Mirjam's nipple even as her twin was changing their positions. When she felt Mirjam's lips, tongue and teeth on her own nipple and the corresponding tug inside her pussy, Karin reached down and wedged her hand between their crotches and broke the contact.

Slipping first one then two fingers inside Mirjam's wet, aching hole, Karin finger fucked her sister while rubbing Mirjam's clit with the heel of her thumb and sucking Mirjam's breast for all she was worth. Mirjam released Karin's nipple from her mouth and cried out wantonly, arching her back and pressing herself against Karin's hand. In a scant ten seconds, she was down for the count.

"Oh! Oh! Damn you, Karin!" moaned Mirjam as her tension broke and her pussy clenched around her sister's fingers. Karin continued to pump her fingers fast and deep into Mirjam until the orgasmic tremors finally ceased and her hand was thoroughly drenched. With a sigh, Mirjam rolled off her twin and collapsed in a boneless heap on the bed.

Karin wasted no time in claiming her prize. Rising to her knees, she stuck her curvy ass toward Dean and looked back at him over her shoulder. "I get your sex first. Bring that dick of yours over here now."

Dean sprang to his feet, and his straining erection sprang almost to his stomach. Standing at the foot of the bed, he placed his hands on Karin's hips and urged her back toward the edge until her butt cheeks were pressed against his groin and his cock nestled inside her crack. Karin rotated her hips sinuously, rubbing herself on Dean in blatant invitation. Grabbing his cock with both hands, Dean slid it up and down between the luscious orbs of her ass before slipping it inside her pussy.

Karin arched her back and shoved her butt into the air to give Dean easier access. "God, you're so hot," he groaned, "so hot and so damn tight." He gripped her hips and with each forward thrust he pulled her back hard against him, imbedding his cock fully inside her snug pussy and causing her ass cheeks and dangling breasts to shake in rhythm.

Karin's breaths were coming in short, panting gasps and her moans deepened and mixed with Dean's own growls of pleasure as he pistoned in and out of her. When he upped the tempo, pumping even harder and faster into her hot, wet sex, his balls began to swing violently and slap against Karin's protruding clit.

It was too much for her. Karin cried out brokenly as her body jerked and convulsed in an explosive orgasm. Dean's release came just a few seconds later, the feeling so intense it was close to pain. It took a long time for him to empty and even after, as he felt the fluttering little aftershocks in her pussy, he spasmed inside of her.

Dean collapsed on his back between the twins, his arm thrown over his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. Mirjam was on him immediately. "Yes, my turn," she said as she rose to her knees and clasped his limp cock in her hands. Expertly, she manipulated him into a semi-hard state.

Seeing that her American cowboy might soon be ready to go again, Karin moved to help her sister. "I want some more," she whined before leaning over Dean and hungrily licking and sucking his nipples.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Mirjam squealed, “Sex in bed first with our cowboy. Then sex on the plane all the way to America!”
The lawyer stretched out an arm and found the bottle; he pulled out the cork with his teeth and took a gulp of the fiery liquid. Maybe the flight wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

[keats]

You can call Donna Edmondson luscious and indeed she is, a carnal feast for all five senses: her soft beauteous face in a kaleidoscope of emotions as she squeezes her naked body against you and her bodacious figure featuring those awesome breasts and that fabulous ass, the scent of her honey hair as she nuzzles against your shoulder and the pungent sex-sweat when she’s aroused and frantic with desire, the liltingly shy giggle as she realizes that you’re about to fuck her and the loving sigh as she spreads her thighs to receive your thrusts and the grunts and cries as her body writhes in rhythm with the plunging of your cock and her frenzied laughter and crying as she comes, the silken warmth of her smooth skin and the supple softness of her eager flesh, the precious tightness of her sex engulfing your throbbing cock. But she is truly luscious too. Her kiss is mint julep sweet and saucy, surprising and suggestive. When you caress her throat with your lips you’re treated to sleek velvety sweetness. Between her breasts your tongue flicks up the delicate beads of sweat tasting of salt and sugar. And then those breasts, at first your arm is around her shoulders, holding her close because she’s shy and almost pulls away in mild resistance as your mouth assaults her chest; your other hand is caressing and squeezing the creamy soft flesh and the smooth skin is sweet and almost buttery and then your lips brush over the raised texture of the areola and the tip of your tongue picks up an even sweeter, fresher succulence, and your lips and your teeth find the candy-hard pink of her nipple and you suck in the magnolia and honeysuckle, devouring her vitality and purity and the tastes of her, the misty moist glow of her peaches and cream flesh, as her succulent breast is pulled into your voracious mouth. And she, jutting forward, feeds you her flesh; it takes two hands now to maul and mold her creamy breasts as you feast on her delectable and mouthwatering nipples. Your greedy, insatiable sucking forms a vacuum, creates a singularity of sensual delight; nothing exists except the scrumptiously harmonious*flavors of breast, areola, and nipple swirling into a perfect erotic parfait.*

Or when she’s lying on the bed, dressed in a lacy bra, sexy garter belt, silk stocking, and nothing else; her sleek hair is already sex-tousled, shimmering seductively and she holds her breath as you approach and she stretches her arms above her head, jutting those luscious breasts forward so that the darker areola peek out from under the lace and her thighs part slightly so that the soft curls of her pussy glisten alluringly. The scent of her whispers a promise, a swirl of sensual spices cinnamon sweet. Presented with the gift of Donna Edmondson your sense of smell becomes an extraordinarily intricate physical phenomenon, intricately bound up with sex. Your nose becomes a sexual organ and each breath brings on arousal. You breathe in her lusciousness, possessing her entirely.

She sighs as you sit on the bed and then she rolls over, almost teasingly shy as her chestnut hair floats around her shoulders, giving off a soft cinnamon scent. But really she’s submitting, holding her breath again and waiting for your touch. She rests her soft cheek on her hands and gazes dreamily into space, knowing what you’re going to do to her. Her body stiffens as you slowly but resolutely work the classic fastenings open, three tiny metal hooks straining to keep those bounteous breasts encased in the lacy cups. With the unclasping of each fastening a small breath bursts from Donna’s soft mouth, blowing wisps of hair across the pillow; she’s concentrating, intently aware, as if she’s counting down the slow undoing of her bra and the release of the first hook is exciting and the second even more so. One last sharp tug and the final hook is liberated. The elastic slides away and you slip the shoulder straps down her arms. She pauses; you’re in command and she doesn’t resist when you firmly nudge her onto her back. The bra falls away and her creamy breasts spread out in a succulent feast. Her hands are palms up resting on the pillow in a pose of surrender and submission.

“Be gentle,” she murmurs, her eyes gleaming with the hint of erotic tears. You bend down and reassure her with a soft whisper of a kiss.

But while her lips are sweet ambrosia, her breasts are prizes too tempting to resist. Each breast is a globe that leads to all the treasures locked up in the wonderful creation that is Donna Edmondson’s bodacious body. Each creamy orb is filled with hyper-sensitive nerve endings, especially at the nipples and areola areas. That’s why touching, sucking and licking this Pl@ym@te's breasts are three of the most potent foreplay techniques to get her primed for more intimacy. Donna loves to get touched on her breasts. And by mauling this mouthwatering flesh you bring your Pl@ym@te to an orgasm. She moans as you’re soft and gentle with your touch. You move your hands over and under the nipples. You take the nipples with your forefinger and thumb, rubbing and pinching softly. Her nipples harden in their yearning. But you don’t focus on the nipple alone. Your tongue, mouth and hands, caressing, licking, sucking and nibbling raise the trembling girl to ecstasy. And she watches, wide-eyed, almost disbelieving what she sees: your mouth engulfing her heaving breasts. She stares, and even as you’re sucking greedily, your tongue tingling with the luscious taste of her, your eyes are locked on hers and daring her to show a reaction. Her breasts quiver: Caress them, stimulate them. Gently squeeze the luscious flesh. Then cup them in your hands and start sucking, starting very slowly. The honeyed flesh swells and heaves as you suck. Gently make circular motions with your tongue. Gather the mounds together and suck one nipple at a time. With one sweet hard candy nipple in your mouth, press it softly between your tongue and your palate and then suck it softly. Bite the nipples VERY gently. Your tongue licks over all the moist warm flesh and she swoons loving it all: the sucking, the pinching, the caressing. And as you suck the flesh deeply into your greedy mouth, she trembles into a profound and merciless climax; her wordless sobs become a tender plea to fuck her. Your cock is throbbing but you take your time, turning your attention to the banquet below her waist…

It was a workday but Donna was looking forward to it because she was going to do a shoot out on the water in a boat and be interviewed by some gun or car magazine; she did so many interviews she couldn’t remember which one it was today.

Donna loved that boat. It was 72 feet long and, even docked like it was now, it looked majestic. She felt like a queen alone on the water with all those men and she loved wandering and exploring as the crew set up for the shoot; they had taken over the dock and had all their gear spread out.

Donna spoke to the reporter while she leaned fetchingly against the wheel of the boat, the sea breeze tousling her hair, the gentle rocking of the waves matched by the swaying of her breasts in a tight low cut shirt. The questions were always the same: Was she afraid to pose nude? Yes! What did her parents think? They were thrilled. Was she still a virgin? Not telling (but her sweet blush revealed that she recently had learned the pleasures of sex.) The unchanging questions churned from interview to interview but Donna was always sincere and kind with every reporter. This interview went well and the reporter went off to ask the photographer some questions giving her a little more time to explore.

Donna was in the cabin below deck, which was cluttered with camera equipment for the shoot. In the middle of the large space was a stepladder leading to the upper deck. Donna loved these ladders and climbed every one of them, imagining herself a sailor or a pirate. She lifted the hatch and stuck her head out to look around. Larry, working below, came in to see what she was doing and saw the Pl@ym@te from the shoulders down only. Smiling to himself, he knew he was going to have some fun.

He placed his hands on her waist and Donna was about to come down to see what the man wanted when she heard a voice from below, “Stay where you are, sweetheart.” Hearing his playful tone, she was more than happy to play along. He hoisted her up until her waist was out of the hatch and planted her feet firmly onto the stepladder.

Donna glanced down at him, her eyes inquisitive but he held her firmly in place. Because she was now in the bright sun it was hard to see the dim cabin clearly. He stood behind the ladder, his face close to her thighs. “Don’t move,” he commanded. The pretty girl nodded, always willing to be agreeable. Maybe they wanted to shoot her coming out of the hatch. She looked around for the photographer.

Larry’s thumbs slipped into the waistband of her shorts and Donna squirmed but held her position. The reporter and photographer were on the deck and heading towards her. Even when Larry’s fingers worked the button of the shorts open and unzipped the fly, the compliant Pl@ym@te held her place. She was used to her clothes being manipulated for photos.
Donna felt his hands as they hooked into the waistband of her shorts and he slowly pulled them down, panties and all. “Goodness gracious,” she murmured, uncertain about what was happening. The reporter was getting closer and he was smiling.

Larry worked the shorts and panties down to her ankles and she stepped out of the garments with delicate lifts of her feet. She looked down into the dimness at her bare legs and saw Larry standing erect and holding her hips; his face was at the perfect height to view one of the girl’s most luscious features. He looked at her curly muff and her plump legs closed together trying to hide the prize he was seeking.

“That's enough of that,” he thought. He took her legs and spread her feet one at a time. He was careful to place each foot on a secure spot but far enough apart to allow him the pleasure of her treasure. His hand stroked her thighs and slid up to tease her lips as they started to shine from the slowly seeping moisture.

Meanwhile the reporter approached Donna still standing in the hatchway; he crotched on to his haunches to ask some more questions.

“Donna, Richard tells me that you’re a natural model and know exactly how to interact with the camera. Do you agree?”

He was surprised by the Pl@ym@te’s reaction to his question. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, then let out a little gasp. In breathless staccato syllables she tried to answer. “Well, everybody…Ohh…is so nice…Oohhh…on the…sh….shh….oh..shoot. They, oh my, oh yeah…they make it, make it…soooo nice.”

Down below Larry had been caressing her thighs and rear, He put his face close to her to inhale her arousing scent and she jumped, startled as his beard tickled her thighs.

She expected his mouth to close over her but instead she felt his fingers spread the petals open wide. Still no mouth so she knew he was looking at her. This embarrassed her slightly but at the same time that embarrassment aroused her. The evidence was in the extra wetness that painted her lips.

Wondering at the erotic expression on the girl’s face the reporter pressed on with his questions.

“How do you feel being looked at by millions of men?”

“Um, ah, I…ooooo…I…think…I think…Oh God, oh yes, I love it! Yes!” The soft girl, her moist skin glistening in the sun, was giddy with embarassed arousal.

When he felt he had teased her enough, Larry dipped his head and let his tongue slide across her slit to her clit. Softly at first like the gentle first licks of an ice cream cone, but like a child who realized he loved the taste he went at her with a renewed passion. His tongue slid in deep as his wet slippery fingers danced across her clit bringing her closer and closer to losing it.

“Do you plan to do more glamour photography?” the reporter asked, now deeply concerned by the writhing of the girl. Her tiny hands were gripping the edges of the hatch so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Oh, yes, more, more, yes, don’t stop, never stop, yes, more, more, mooooore!”

Larry felt his cock throbbing in his shorts with each lick. It was a delicious ache and the taste of her was driving him crazy. He never imagined coming because of the pure deliciousness of a pussy but Donna’s succulence was bringing him as close to orgasm as she was from his tongue. When he felt her legs begin to tremble, he knew it was time; his arms gripped her hips tightly as his mouth fucked her to higher ecstasies. If her head wasn't outside through the hatch she would have heard his slurping as he drank her juices greedily. Her legs lost their strength as she almost sat on his face, his tongue aching but not ready to quit.

Donna looked at the reporter with desperation, breathing frantically, her eyes blazing. He was about to ask another question when she gasped out, “I…I’ve got to go.” In a flash she disappeared down the hatch closing it behind her.

Her trembling came to an end and he allowed the pretty Pl@ym@te to slide through the hatch and fall into his arms. Holding her like a baby he kissed her hard with lips that smelled and tasted of her. Donna was panting frantically; from the corner of her eye she saw the pile of cushions he was stumbling towards. Then they tumbled down. Larry had to use one hand over the squealing girl’s mouth as he unleashed his cock. His erection leapt out at her like a ravenous beast and he started to kiss her and his hands went all over her body; she was bucking and thrashing like a wild mare and he was about to mount her, but she pushed him away only to show him what she wanted to do, taking his big thing, heavy and pulsing into her warm moist mouth, and she went at him as if she was too starved for it. In a second his shaft was ramming down her throat and his mouth was back on top of her delectable pussy. Their bodies formed a perfect sine wave, the erotic oscillations of sixty-nine. His throbbing cock plunged deep down her eager throat as his pulsating tongue delved deep into the sweetness of her pussy. The taste of her gushed over his tongue, bitter cinnamon and sweet orange blossom; and when he started to come, Donna squirmed and twisted, grinding herself into the cushions, and then, as her body flushed and her face turned the color of a spring rose, she came, too in endless tidal waves now, writhing and twisting her hips into his face. She would have been screaming but the cock down her throat muffled her noises except for her greedy sucking and slurping. She spasmed in one final explosion of ecstasy, pouring her luscious nectar into his mouth. His cock unloaded and she gulped and swallowed, savoring this delicious treat.

She could have nestled into the cushions, cozy and contented with him on top of her and his white lava warming her belly. But the taste of her and her seductive aroma kept him frenzied and lust-filled-- she flipped it back on. His cock was screaming to fuck her as he pressed against her clamped-shut legs. She struggled against him as their sweaty bodies writhed over the cushions, Finally he sprang back, sitting against the wall. His cock, which he’d wedged under her leg, leapt free and smacked her belly.
She sat up too, her body slick with sweat and his licking and sucking, her hair tousled and shimmering, her eyes blazing and glistening with raw emotions. He laughed, shaking his head, despite the pain of his hungry cock. He looked at her, saying, “Jesus, I’m only human.”

Donna looked at him softly, and then a wicked smile came over her face.
And within a second, they were on the cushions kissing and fondling one another—she was feeling a little tipsy and amorous—and then events were about to unfold again with some more sixty-nine when he started to wrestle around with her on the cushions, both laughing as if it were a joke, until he decided to part her legs, and this time, when she shut them close as a vise, he really used his strength and forced them apart and so wide that the inevitability of penetration was like heated scent flowing out of her luscious pussy, and even though she had started to plead with him, saying, “No, please don’t…I’m scared…please stop,” he couldn’t. With the smell of her femininity thick in his nostrils and his skin feverishly hot, he didn’t hear her or didn’t want to hear her: lowering himself and bringing the weight of his body to bear, he entered her and she felt as if she were being occupied by a living creature the weight and length of a baseball bat. Her legs wrapped around him and now she was pleading again, “Yes, yes, take, take me hard…you’re so big and strong. Come inside…Yes, yes…Yes!” When he had his climax, the nautical colors of the cabin swirled inside his head, and when he calmed down, he thought that he might have been a little rash in his impetuosity, but hell, he was just being a man. Besides, she was nestling against his chest and purring contentedly; he touched her hair, called her pretty. But she was crying too as he was kissing her neck and brushing her hair away from her eyes, kissing her breasts, apologizing to her until she pressed a finger to his lips. “No, silly, you were wonderful; it’s just I have to go back for more interviews.”

Ten minutes later, Donna staggered back up to the deck, her clothes back on and her mouth tasting minty fresh from toothpaste.

“One more question,” the reporter asked the misty-eyed girl, “What’s like having all these men around when you’re a Pl@ym@te.”

Donna caught Larry’s eye as he stood behind the reporter. She blushed quietly and murmured in her Southern lilt, “Oh, everybody’s really friendly.” Her glistening tongue moistened her lips as if she were sucking on some delicious treat. “Everybody’s so nice to me,” she gushed as if praying.

[keats]

Even on the jaded streets of Los Angeles Donna Edmondson was beautiful enough to stop traffic. This was actually proven one November afternoon at the intersection of Santa Monica Boulevard and Sawtelle Boulevard; the afternoon commuters going east, all those tech and entertainment workers in Santa Monica and Venice trying to get on or cross the 405, they were treated to the sight of the luscious Pl@ym@te standing in a tight red dress and handing out copies of the magazine featuring her centerfold. Two dozen cars must have smashed fenders trying to get a better look at the voluptuous Southern belle.

Nobody was surprised when she was chosen to be Pl@ym@te of the Year. When she was chosen to be a Pl@ym@te she was a virgin but by time she was photographed for her Pl@ym@te of the Year layout she had discovered the pleasures sharing her body; in one short month she became a passionate acolyte at the temple of sex, willing and anxious to offer her body. Her sensual innocence was a magnet few men could resist. And yet she, without any guile, still managed to sustain a soft innocence; still she remained delicate and demure, attracted to men and aroused by their power, but shy and sincere.

Donna’s stay at the mansion was great fun. The best days were wasted away soaking up the sun and soaking in the Jacuzzi; she loved, most of all, lounging by the pool with the other Pl@ym@tes. But while most of the girls were brazenly competing for the attention of men, Donna just enjoyed the playful company and her guileless nature didn’t allow her to realize just how sexy and desirable she was stretching her voluptuous body over a lounge chair. She enjoyed her stay at the Mansion the way a frisky and innocent kitten enjoys frolicking and lazing in the sun; everybody at the Mansion enjoyed Donna’s presence the way everybody enjoys, and lusts after, a sex-kitten.

One morning, as the sun streamed into her bedroom window, warming the satin sheets and caressing her creamy skin, Donna woke up and knew the was going to be a hot one, so she donned a red bikini, a bikini especially selected for her by Hugh Hefner himself; the bottom was a few thin red lines holding a tiny triangle barely covering her bush and not covering the juicy round globes of her rear at all, while the top was a few strings and some coaster-sized super thin fabric stretched over her nipples. Donna looked in the mirror and did a jiggly little dance for herself, then skipped out of the room. She felt naughty the way a school girl feels naughty when she rolls the waist band of her plaid skirt up to reveal more of her thighs; she felt naughty and innocent at the same time. She felt exhilarated by the day.


This day was designed for languor and lolling and Donna mentally filled out a schedule that was 100% of both; the stunning centerfold model sighed with easygoing satisfaction as she came out to join the rest of the Pl@ym@tes for breakfast. Given her desire to be idle she was surprised by the animation she found among the crowd at the table. Already there was a buzz of excitement and the air of a party.

Donna snuggled into a seat and looked around at all the beautiful girls; some men who were hanging around, the sweet girl gave them her winning, inviting smile.

She noticed one man; built like a weightlifter with his muscles displayed in a white wifebeater, he was giving her some close study, his eyes, with lustful glee, wandering over her lusciousness. Practically nude in the tiny bikini, she felt completely naked under his gaze. His eyes were dominating her and she nervously looked away, studying his massive hands instead; they were scarred and gnarled and the fingers, looking like they were made of steel bands, kept furling and unfurling, as if he was suppressing the urge to brutally seize her. Suddenly her naughtiness made her a bit nervous but she pushed the feelings aside, telling herself that he probably a fine young gentleman and the sole support of his dear old mother.

Moe, for that was his name, narrowed his eyes and continued his brazen study of the bodacious Donna. He was one of the college men that the publisher liked to keep around the Mansion to compliment the collection of Pl@ym@tes frolicking over the grounds. Moe had busied himself the night before in a three-way with Teri Weigel and Kim Morris and both girls, especially Teri, were looking at him possessively, but his eyes were locked on Donna and already his muscles were tensing, poised for some serious drilling.

After a piece of toast and a cup of coffee and more penetrating scrutiny from Moe, Donna was feeling positively tingling. A clatch of gossiping swirled around Teri, who was describing Moe’s skills; her hand gestures seemed to be describing a telephone pole; Kim kept nodding affirmation of Teri’s claims, her own hands illustrating the pounding of a pile driver and her eyes reflecting a bit of terror as she recounted the events of last night. The other girls couldn’t help noticing that Moe was fixated on the innocent Donna and some even tsked sympathetically in her direction. Oblivious to it all, Donna nibbled distractedly on the end of a banana, unaware of the suggestiveness of her pose. Unable to withstand Moe’s gaze any longer, she blinked into the sunshine, hoping the white blaze of morning sun would burn away her anxiety. But even as she drank some water, she nervously spilled some on her breasts, wetting the bikini top so it clung more revealing over her nipples.

The sharp sound of a chair being pushed back made her wince; she knew for certain it was him, the man gazing at her and she stiffened her spine in nervousness. Still staring into the sun, she listened to the heavy footfalls of his approach until he had stepped between her and light, casting a menacing shadow over the reclining girl. He pushed aside a table and took her hand and stated to everyone and anyone who cared that he and Donna were going for a drive. That’s all he said, “We’re going for a drive.” Whether he was speaking to the crowd and announcing that he and the bodacious Miss Edmondson were going for a ride in his car, or whether he was commanding the luscious Pl@ym@te wasn’t clear and didn’t really matter. The crowd of Pl@ym@tes and the men desiring those Pl@ym@tes heard the five words, “We’re going for a drive,” but in their minds they heard him announce “I’m taking this curvaceous girl away and driving off so I can find a secluded spot and fuck her, a spot so secluded that nobody will hear her constant screams of ecstasy as I drill her.” What the innocent young Donna heard was “We’re going for a drive,” but in her pretty little head what she heard was, “Let’s have a nice ride in the countryside for some fresh air.” But she was still uncertain; she left her hand in his as he stood over her but she stayed stretched out in the lounge chair.

“We’re going for a drive,” he said again, his voice flat but commanding. He squeezed her hand and urged her out of her seat.

Surprised but pleased, Donna wriggled up and followed Moe out to parking lot where he had his vehicle, a large station wagon. The dark hulking machine, gleaming metallic black in the sun, caused Donna to pause for a moment; in her girlish imagination the vehicle looked like a luminous neon dragon hungry for virgin flesh. But she felt Moe’s hand on her elbow, guiding her along and she liked that he opened the door for her. From Moe’s point of view he was moving his prisoner into the car as if he were making an arrest; he was looking forward to a most thorough grilling. He guided her in and slammed the door. Going around to the driver's side, he jumped in, started the car, and off they went.

Donna had no idea where Moe was taking her but it didn't matter; her heart soared with the knowledge that this handsome man wanted a little time alone with her. She didn’t mind the silence; she could sense his strength and masculine determination as he maneuvered the car through L.A. traffic and out to the more scenic mountain roads. She happily enjoyed the drive. She wanted to chatter but something in his steely silence held her back; her graceful fingers nervously reached for the knob for the radio but, before she touched it, that same silence made the shy girl pause and bashfully fold her hands into her lap. She watched the scenery flashing by in the sweeping light of California sun.

They hadn't gone far when Moe pulled off the main drag and drove along a dirt path to a spot that was not visible from the road. Donna nervously nibbled her lower lip as she listened to the tires grind over the gravel. The trees surrounding the road, old junipers, firs, even some gnarly oaks seemed to bow down to caress the girl’s skin and their scent slowly mesmerized her. Once they were in far enough, he put the car in park and shut it off. Turning to Donna he paused and studied her with the same intensity he had used at breakfast. Donna squirmed a bit and smiled nervously. His gaze drilled into her. Some innocuous small talk caught in her throat; she desperately wanted to say something to fill the think void of menace in the car but the breeze whispering through the tall trees seemed to warn her and she maintained a frantic silence. She could almost feel his masculine power pulsing inside her, taking her. With a quivering hand she wiped a few drops of sweat from her brow. “Get in back,” he said finally, his voice steely and grim. A wave of panic froze the tender girl.

Donna bit her lip; her mind raced as her body remained still, posed like a fawn in presence of a wolf. What did he want? The sweet Pl@ym@te was too naïve and too modest to imagine that he could be consumed by lust for little ol’ her. She thought all the other Pl@ym@tes were prettier and sexier. But still…he was handsome in a rugged sort of way and he did seem awfully engrossed by her. Maybe that was it; a smile graced her lips as she realized Moe wanted to play in the car. The guileless inexperienced girl imagined a petting session with cuddling, kissing, and a rough hand fleetingly slipped under fabric of her bikini top.

Her eyes widened; “OK,” she said in her lilting Southern drawl and those two syllables sealed her fate. She did as he told her and climbed in the back, literally squirming over the front passenger seat and for a moment displaying her magnificent derrière to his gaze. Once she was in place he silently exited the vehicle and opened the back door.

She had scooted to one side but he grabbed her full, bikini-clad hips and slid her across to the center. Donna bit her lip as she trembled under his huge hands taking control of her body. “You don’t have to be rough,” she said melodiously, trying to hide her anxiety.

As he worked his massive frame back into the car he faced her and positioned himself between the front seat and the girl. Her head was dropped to one side, a finger delicately hooked in her mouth. Her breathing was soft but still the creamy mounds jiggled slightly as she sat watching expectantly. She looked like a feast ready to be wolfishly devoured.

“Take your bottom off,” he demanded.

The command hit her like a blow. Her first instinct was to resist but suddenly she knew that she wanted to submit. She could feel every cell of her body yearning to be ravaged. But still, she was a good girl. “OK,” she said breathlessly, “I guess you want a peek and all, but no hanky-panky.” And in her innocence she believed that she could mean it. With a sigh of resignation and submission she hooked her fingers into the sides of her bikini and slid the panties off. Moe grabbed her ankles and pulled. “Hey,” she squealed helplessly but she was caught in a vortex; Moe was moving with an unstoppable velocity driven by lust as he manhandled and manipulated her pliant body. Donna's bottom slid to the edge of the seat; Moe, handling her like a doll, pulled her legs straight up into the air and placed each heel on the top of the front passenger seat. Looking up from her distorted position, Donna saw the man looking down between her legs. His burning gaze made her tummy tense as she felt her sweet nectar seep from her pussy lips to make them shine. The scent of hot sex filled the humid car and she shivered as Moe lowered his head to look closer and inhale deeply of her scent.

“Oh dear,” she groaned and her body tensed for the onslaught she knew to be inescapable.

Her arousal was so strong, she closed her eyes as if it was too much to take in but they quickly popped open when his tongue traced a line along her wet slit. The rough tongue slid up slowly along the soft wet petals and stopped when it hit her clit. “Oh dear,” she moaned again sweetly and now it was a plea for him to keep going. Just the tip of his tongue quickly flickered back and forth over her bud causing her legs to tremble and more of her juices to flow. When she felt as though she was about to come, Moe already knew and dipped his head in close to drink in her scent and slurp her juices. He loved to watch a girl’s petals unfold and open like a flower to the sun but his passion took over and his mouth rasped over her, coarsely sucking and tasting her. Moaning, Donna came hard, shaking and moaning as she gave everything to him, her honeysuckle nectar flowing into his greedy maw as her moans spiraled into a lilting song of bliss. As she came a wind rushed through the branches of the tall trees and the rustling leaves seemed to applaud the girl’s spiraling bliss.

Not even a full minute after her orgasm, Donna looked up to see the man drop his shorts and watched as his erection bounced against his navel. His cock was hard and proud and ready to take her. “Oh my goodness,” her voice was timorous but her eyes were eager. Her hand reached out to hold the throbbing shaft and her thumb grazed the wet tip causing Moe to gasp aloud. She looked into his face, her eyes glinting with worship and she genuinely believed she needed to ask permission. “Can I…?” Too modest to complete the thought, the glistening parting of her lips made clear her desire. Leaning forward, she took him in her mouth and sucked his cock softly. She sucked the tip, just the sensitive head, her sweet mouth warm and easy as dewy moss. She had a possessive grip on the shaft and slowly stroked him as she sucked. Moe mauled her brutally, ripping her bikini top off and grabbing her nipples hard, pinching them in a way that would have hurt had she not been so close to coming again herself.

Moe grabbed her hair and fucked her head but could only manage two strokes before he felt that he would for sure lose it. She gasped as he jerked his shaft out of her mouth; pushing her back, none too gently, Moe gripped her ankles again and spread her legs wide. Seeing his mark, the wet, bushy folds that covered the gate to heaven, he aimed and pushed, hard, sliding inside her wet sex like hot knife through butter.

The lovely young girl groaned as the massive steel pierced her body, spreading her apart, filling her with a pulsating beast eager to devour her innocence. Her breasts swelled, her nipples hardened as she took him in; the beautiful girl froze for a moment, trembling like a trapped fawn, then the heat of the monster inside her began to melt her resistance, making her writhe, urging her to spread herself in submission.

“Ohhhhhhhhh yessssssss!” she moaned, so deliciously tight, her skin so pliant and soft, her sexy innocence so inviting; he knew he had to ride her, and ride her hard.

His hips pumped his cock deep into her and with every stroke he heard her soft mewling moans, each high-pitched whimper like another tick of a deadly bomb. The eager moans coiled in her brain as ecstasy tightened every nerve of her luscious body. Every deep thrust of his cock into her tantalizing tightness intensified the coiling until her soft lips couldn’t hold it in; she screamed and that scream undid him- white-hot fire sped through his shaft and seared the walls of heaven until Donna and Moe were both spent and ready to collapse. The ragged breathing from sweat-covered bodies was the only sound in the hot humid car.

Moe grunted a single wordless syllable of appreciation but the pretty girl couldn’t help but bat her eyes fetchingly while trying to suppress a proud smile. She’d only learned to make love a month ago and was so glad to please this hungry man. Again she suppressed the urge to fill the silence with some girlish words; instead she looked out at the tall trees and watched their swaying branches as the breeze seemed to whisper endearments to the nubile girl.

Moe helped Donna find her bikini bottom; he stepped out of the car and opened the door for her so she could wriggle into the tiny garment. Noticing that he had ruined her top, he wordlessly took his tee shirt and gave it to her. They both climbed back into the front seats.

The white wifebeater stretched into a thin gossamer sheen over Donna’s huge luscious mounds and barely covered the top of the glistening triangle of her bush. He looked at her sitting in the seat, still breathing heavily from his drilling. His hand reached for the ignition key but his eyes couldn’t help themselves; they dropped to her thighs, wet with sweat, then wandered up to her belly, and again drank in those heaving mounds, her nipples pointy and proud under the taut patina of overstretched white fabric; already her sweat made the tight fabric seem practically transparent. He looked at her face and she looked so sweet and willing.

“Shit,” he grunted and opened the door and stomped out to her side. “Come’ere,” he demanded reaching in with his large hands.

In the ancient primal dance Donna hid her eager desire with the pretense of a struggle. She futilely gripped the steering wheel as he pulled on her kicking legs. Her squeals were sexy and giddy and her struggle was playful but serious enough to cause some scratches and bruises on his arms. His forceful lust prevailed in the end and he held her waist tightly. In seconds she was dragged out the car and into his arms.

Lifting her wriggling body, he carried her into the woods. Her legs fluttered helplessly in the air as she squirmed in the strong grip of the fierce man. The sun rose high in the sky and the heat caressed her moist skin. Deeper into the woods the dappled light glowed seductively through the leaves of the tall trees. Donna looked around, her spirit soaring in the warm dancing light.

They came to a massive, ancient oak; over four hundred years old this venerable tree had seen Quechan native maidens ravished in tribal rituals and the Spanish grandees raping young virgins and, later, cowboys overpowering helpless farm girls. Moe lowered Donna’s feet and pushed her against the enormous trunk; the rough feel of the bark matched the rough skin of his hands as he mauled her body. Her body tingled as the coarse bark caressed her; she sank into its cruelty, surrendering like the hundreds of maidens before her. Moe was every conqueror who had raped a maiden here, fierce in his lust, pushing up the tight shirt and sucking her mouth, her nipples, every inch of her delicious flesh. She jutted her chest forward, feeding her malleable flesh into his greedy mouth. She stroked his hair, his cheek, urging him to suckle on the luscious nipples as she murmured wordless encouragement. She felt warm and glowing inside, loving the way he ravished her creamy breasts. She felt naughty but this felt so right, giving herself to his hunger. She felt pure and sparkling. Even as he drowned in her voluptuous flesh his hard hands ripped away the bikini bottom; Donna, too enthralled with the sensations rushing through her nipples, never even noticed; she twisted and writhed and urged his mouth over her luscious breasts. She felt deliciously wicked as the stippled light of the sun sprinkled over her through the leaves of the ancient tree.

Then her brain screamed into a red flaming comet as his cock rammed in; desperate for rescue, she reached up and dangled from a long dead branch as he pumped up into her, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Oh,” she frenziedly gasped as his battering ram smashed her. “Oh,” she gasped again as the huge throbbing mass again crashed into her. “Oh,” her sweet breathless voice gasped with each thrust of his weapon. In and out; deeper and deeper he drilled with her sheath opening and closing over him; she felt herself coming and dropped from the branch, plunging down hard onto his cock, and letting her face fall against his shoulders, her teeth digging into his neck.

He kept fucking her, filling her, fucking her again. They collapsed into the grass and he pounded her into the ground. But he had to have more of her. He lifted her up and headed back down the trail; Donna squirmed in his arms, her eyes glazed with bliss as she watched the massive trees sway around her. She kissed his bare chest gently to show her devotion to his lust.

He carried her to the back of the car and, dropping her face down over the hood, he rammed his cock into her, pounding her willing body against the warm steel as her arms spread out in surrender. Donna’s tight sheath took him in, drinking up all he had as he shot into her lovely warm body. Her cheek pressed against the hood, she gazed mistily at the ancient oak witnessing her ravishment from down the trail; its branches seemed to shudder in sympathy. He yanked her hair, pulling her up on her arms, her palms down on the hood as his cock drilled in deeper. She wailed in sweet agony, writhing her body and pumping her hips back to meet his thrusts. “Yes, yes,” she purred, “You’re so good to me.” He snarled wordlessly and shoved in brutally.

Still pounding her, he used his rough hands all over her naked, trembling body and still drilling into her he lifted her legs and flipped the eager squealing girl over; his hands squeezed around each sweet mound of creamy flesh forming the soft yielding breast into a cone that he engulfed with his mouth sucking hard enough to make her wince with delight and pain.

She felt his weapon dig in deeper and shoot another load and she howled as her juices flooded out to meet the hot seed filling her. He finally collapsed in spasms of ecstasy, sandwiching Donna between his exhausted torso and the warm metal of the hood.

Donna sweetly caressed his hair and whispered soft endearing appreciation. “You are so good to me,” she purred silkily. Her eyes misted with grateful tears. The sun burned over the exhausted couple and weary, blissful Donna noticed a path leading down to a lake. “Make love to me in the water,” she whispered into his ear.

He lifted his head and grunted. “Make love to me in the water,” she giggled, a little more lively now. She nodded her head towards the cool lake shimmering in the noonday sun.

With another grunt he hoisted her over his shoulder and lumbered to the dock; Donna giggled and screamed until he tossed her into the lake and jumped in after her for a refreshing cool and cleansing dip and a slow easy water-fuck. Donna, not knowing his plans, giggled and played like a child. “Isn’t this fun?” she gushed as she impishly splashed him.

Suddenly Donna felt herself pinned to his body; he lifted one of her legs and rammed his cock into her yet again. It was a slow lazy screwing, twisting deep into her, driving her insane with bliss while the crystalline water soothed and cooled her. When her floodgates opened she arched backwards, her hair dangling in the water as she writhed on his cock, her voice yowling a song of ecstasy that bounced off the sparkling lake and echoed through the woods.

The sun arced in the sky, beginning its slow afternoon descent to the horizon. Moe had scooped up the delicious Pl@ym@te and deposited her into the backseat but the drive home was interrupted several times because he couldn’t resist pulling her over to fuck her again.

By time they arrived at the Mansion Donna was in a sex-induced stupor and he carried her nude body back to her room and lovingly laid her on the satin sheets where she snuggled into a deep sleep and a sweet dream about ancient trees.

Later, caressed by the late afternoon sun Donna languidly let her eyes glide open. Moe was sitting in a chair and observing her. Noiselessly, he rose and brought a glass of water to her lips. With the gentleness of a lover he spooned some soup into her mouth and delicately wiped her lips with a napkin. Donna luxuriated in the attention and stretched her naked body over the bed. Rolling over she savored cool caress of the satin sheets; face down, her juicy derrière jiggled in a fetching way. Resting her chin on her palms she gazed into the sunset outside her window. She felt the bed creak with Moe’s weight and she felt his firm rough hands grip her waist and he straddled her thighs. She felt the warmth of the sun and she felt the intense pressure as his cock pressed into her tight and juicy derrière. She grunted once with the delicious pain and then melted into the pleasure. It was a wonderful day.

[keats]

The night before the Pl@ym@te playoffs the publisher had spent the evening enjoying the succulent pleasures of Lonny Chin, the girl scheduled to be Miss January, 1983. Of course, he knew the playoffs were coming but the event producers wanted the exact date to be a surprise for him, which is why they arranged the pleasurable distraction and Lonny got to enjoy screwing all night and into the morning as crews set up the different games and camera rigs.

The whole event was a loose and giddy affair. Two teams of stunning Pl@ym@tes pretended to be competing against each other in silly games, all of which involved either skimpy and very revealing bikinis or wet tee-shirts. The frisky girls were constantly peeling off each other’s clothes while laughing and teasing giddily.

The late morning sun, finally awakening the publisher, mixed with the sounds of the girls outside yelling and cheering; he staggered up and wandered towards a window to check out the action and think about his next selection; of course, the Pl@ym@te he chose would win bonus points for her team.

He almost had a bounce in his step for a moment as he thought about all the delicious girls spread out on the lawn ready for the plucking, lush like hot summer flowers. Through the open window he heard a sweet Texan twang as a young girl let out a delighted rebel yell. Looking out, he gazed down on the astounding scene; even the king in his own pleasure palace had never seen anything quite as madcap and arousing as the dozens of eager Pl@ym@tes scampering over his lawn. Anxious to see the lovely ladies more closely, he tugged on a pair of black pajamas and headed downstairs.

Outside the seductive squeals and gasps of the girls were magnetic, drawing him on. He could see the luscious pink figures dashing around everywhere, designer hairdos flying in the air. Then came the scent of their sweet sweat and perfume; long legs and slender arms, flat bellies, round asses barely covered by bikinis, creamy scoops of flesh bouncing out of skintight shirts. One word fixed in his mind as he crossed the estate towards the bevy of beauties: heaven.

When he got closer he stood on the lawn and once more shook his head in disbelief; scantily clad beauties were everywhere, running around and jumping, sweating and laughing in playful competition while reporters, cameramen, and photographers scrambled all over to document the event. Hefner smiled inscrutably and scanned the crowd for one particular Pl@ym@te.

Kimberly Macarthur was excited by the electric charge of the clicking cameras and the zeal of the media pressing close in all the crazy games. Staying at the mansion had been a real thrill and she felt kind of wild and liberated by the exhilaration of all the Pl@ym@tes teasing and taunting each other affectionately. Kimberly was loved by everybody because she was so warm hearted and gentle, plus she was endowed with a voluptuous body of creamy curves. She had a bubbly, effervescent personality, coming across as huggable and playful as a new-born kitten. But in bed, the sweet girl turned out to be pure sensual energy, delivering strong and sweaty performances for virtually every man she slept with.

She had been excited by the games since the very start. She was high for days, looking forward to the many wacky events. Up early this morning, the buxom blonde was one of the first on the field today. She loved getting wet in the water slide and she giggled as she ran over to complete the obstacle course, determined to win points for her team.

Kimberly, with long strides of her shapely legs, moved like a goddess across the lush lawn; barefooted, her cute little toes curled into the damp grass, her pale skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration and water from the slide. Her full and gorgeous breasts danced in rhythm with her steps, gliding globes swaying under the thin fabric of the tight wet tee shirt.

Graceful wet ringlets of hair, like spun gold, framed her round soft face; her cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. She loved being part of the team and she had a foxy desire to win as many points for her girlfriends as she could.

Pausing for a moment, the nubile vixen rested a hand on her hip; with a finger hooked on her lower lip she cocked her head and widened her eyes as she thought about the meeting the girls had with the event staff the night before. The words still tightened her stomach when she recalled them, “…and he’ll be picking one girl to be in a video with him; it’s going to be a huge deal.”

“What kind of video?” somebody asked.

“Well, we are trying to see how far we can go in the adult market.”

The girls had murmured among themselves but then somebody asked aloud, “A video?”

The producer coughed into his hand and paused. “Yes, a…an intimate video. Of course for the girl picked her team will win maximum bonus points.”

Even in the warm sun Kimberly shivered thinking about what kind of video it would be.

She would have stood there in the middle of the lawn, lost in an erotic reverie for a long time but the screech of two girls cat-fighting snapped her into the present. She shook her head, spinning her golden locks in the air; squealing with joy she scampered towards the jungle gym equipment.

As soon as he saw Kimberly Macarthur swinging with her arms in the air and her soft creamy mounds bouncing under that tight wet tee shirt the choice was easy. Her smile flashed at him winningly as she scurried down the path to the next part of the course. Her sweet round ass jiggled playfully as she hurried away.

After the obstacle course the Pl@ym@tes gathered under an open tent and stripped out of their wet bikini bottoms and tees and, along with tight satin shorts, slipped on pink and blue tee shirts with their names printed on the back.

The publisher stood in the shadows as he savored the sight of succulent Kimberly peeling off her wet things, her skin glowing warm and pink with the excitement of her physical exertions. Her breasts quivered as she tugged the fresh shirt over her curvy torso and she rocked her full hips pulling the soft cool satin over her full warm thighs. She was a fresh thing; he’d do to her what he’d done to so many nubile Pl@ym@tes before but right now he was maniacally aroused by her and her alone, as if he were a big cat and she, in her guileless sensuality was the scrumptious mouse he obsessively needed to pounce upon.

The giggling and teasing of the girls under the tent was like the tingling of light cheerful bells, especially the talk around Kimberly; she was so sweet and friendly, her eyes bright with delight and her fresh open smiles melting all hearts as she wriggled into the tight clothes.

Suddenly the girlish cackles and giggles fell silent. Like antelope sensing the approach of the predator they turned in unison and saw the publisher striding towards them, his eyes locked on his luscious prey.

Kimberly heard her name whispered among the girls. She heard other things too, things that made her shiver.

He simply walked over and put his arms around the petite girl’s waist. She held her breath in a silent gasp. She knew what she was expected to do. She could feel the power of his hand on her narrow waist, pressing into her soft flesh.

The buzz of the girls stopped as soon as he touched her. The petite blonde trembled and slowly bent her head towards the publisher’s chest, a lump in her throat, her heart pounding. “Oh Mr. Hefner,” she breathed softly, affectionately embracing him and sighing submissively.

From lust perhaps, or just from the thrill of having this nymph so close, his own color deepened: hers was already a profound crimson, not, as it appeared, from emotion, but from desire.

“Mister Hefner… I…” she said, trying to find words, trying to express her willingness. All she could do was gaze up into his face, her soft eyes dewy with anticipation.

“I have plans for you,” said the man, letting her read the meaning in his lustful tone.

“Yes — I know that.” Her breath came in short soft bursts like a sparrow’s; her face glowed, red and moist, like a rose petal before the sun dries off the dew.

She sighed to herself, feeling her body slide into surrender; she nestled her hair against his chest and lifted her soft eyes to his. Her lips parted in expectation.

Before he could crush her mouth the photographers and press gathered around, anxious to interview the delicious beauty captured from the games by the publisher.

“Hef, it looks like you’ve invaded one of the teams and taken a prisoner. What’s going on?”

Now that he had the luscious Kimberly in hand, he felt like a mighty conquer. “Well ordinarily I’m a late riser but this morning there was all this noise. I leaned out of an upstairs window and just shook my head at the outrageous scene. It looked like a revolution.” He squeezed the bodacious Pl@ym@te’s waist. “I thought it was a coup so I went down to try to get a grasp on the situation. Although I found the invaders friendly, if a bit rowdy, I’ve decided to take Miss MacArthur prisoner anyway.”

“Kimberly, are you his prisoner now?” a reporter shouted out and the girl nodded prettily, her eyes twinkling.

Then all the other reports rushed in: “What happens now, Kimberly?” “Are you afraid?” “Are you excited that you’ve been captured?”

Kimberly’s eyes widened at the attention; she felt the publisher’s arm tighten around her waist as though he was asserting his claim. She felt the glare of the video lights and she shyly blinked at the camera flashes. She felt the eyes of all the other Pl@ym@tes focused on her. Everything was in slow motion; although clearly people were talking at her, she could hear nothing. The questions came too fast too answer. Then one microphone thrust close to her mouth. “Why do you suppose he picked you?” She turned her head to the Mr. Hefner and thought about what was coming next; she blushed shyly and bit her lip nervously.

Then she heard the question repeated, “Why did he pick you Kimberly?”

She looked out on the crowd of Pl@ym@tes; their affectionate grins bathed her in a glow that warmed her with mischievous confidence. Now she knew what to do.

The tiny blonde Texan smiled naughtily then slowly began to roll up the hem of her tight tee, the soft fabric gathered up slowly, slowly revealing the glories of the flesh underneath; her breasts, a vision of erotic treasures as they came into view. “I guess these were my secret weapon,” she giggled; innocent and fresh, she rocked her shoulders to display her magnificent 37 inch rack to the lights of the cameras. She turned left, she turned right, then turned to the center, giving everybody a good view of her glorious breasts.

Impulsively she spun around and pressed her nipples against the publisher’s chest. Flashbulbs exploded; standing on her toes to lift her mouth to his, she surrendered herself: her moist, warm lips, her dancing tongue, her heaving breasts. Grinning into the cameras, he squeezed her tight.

Her lush breasts, soft and warm with rock hard nipples pressed against him but he bent her back and gave each bright nub a loving kiss. She reddened with embarrassment and squirmed in his arms as he nuzzled his face between the two creamy orbs.

“Go Kimberly!” her teammates shouted. “Strip her clothes off!” was the gleeful cry from the other team.

Encouraged by the chanting the publisher began to push down the elastic of her shorts but she resisted; this was too much and she was too shy.

Kimberly squirmed, caressing the cool of his satin pajamas with the warmth of her voluptuous young body. She was eager to please and proud to be earning points for her team, but the video cameras she knew she was facing later frightened her. She had stripped for the camera before but now she would be making love under the silent red gaze of the lens as it stared at her sweet body. She squeezed him again and impaled her mouth on his; she swam under his power, urged on by the press of the media. Again he tried to push down her shorts in order to reveal her luscious ass but again she tugged the elastic up.

“Mr. H, what do you think of your prisoner? Looks like she pretty feisty.”

“I am feisty,” Kimberly proudly interjected as her team cheered her on. “I’m from Texas after all.”

“That’s right. Hef, how do you plan to break your prisoner?”

“Oh I have some interrogation techniques that will have her begging for mercy. Once I get her clothes off I’m certain she’ll cooperate.”

“Kimberly, what do you think? Are you worried about being his prisoner?”

The young girl giggled softly, still blushing, but emboldened by the cameras. “I plan to put up a good fight and like my namesake General McArthur I will return!”

The crowded let out a whoop and the nervous girl again embraced the publisher for a kiss.

The two Pl@ym@te teams were united in their boisterous teasing. “You mean you’ll come again!” shouted one side to Kimberly and the other team added, “And again!” Then both teams screamed out, “Go Kimberly!”

The publisher grinned happily in the sensation of her nipples digging into him; but gradually he released her and with his arm around her waist turned her towards cameras once more. The reporters were ready and eager. “Hef, Kimberly’s body looks formidable…”

“A real handful,” the publisher interrupted, grinning.

Kimberly was leaning back against him, her bare breasts thrust out towards the cameras, his arm around her waist.

“Yeah, a handful,” the reporter continued; he was grinning too, “Can you show us what you have in mind?”

Kimberly, still smiling gamely, froze, anticipating the worst. The publisher squeezed her creamy breasts and she squirmed as she reddened. He let go but kept her wrapped in his arms, jovial as he held court. “Well, obviously Kimberly will be horizontal and helpless for most of the interrogation. I plan to go at her with some deep probing techniques, but since you mentioned what a handful she can be…” His free hand was now stroking over her nipples and she was trembling with arousal and embarrassment. Her head bent back so he could kiss her as he fondled those luscious mounds.

The awed crowd fell silent. When the kiss broke she was blushing shyly even though she was the victor of that erotic round. The publisher looked stunned by her sensual allure.

Finally another reporter braved a question. “Kimberly, you’re his prisoner and Hef seems anxious to interrogate you. He’s ready to go all the way with you; what are you expecting?”

She blushed sweetly, “Well, like he says, it’s going to be deep and penetrating. Some real hard probing, but I have some tricks myself too. He may get me begging for mercy and all, but he’s going to get it from me too.”

“He said you’ll be begging for mercy, what do you think?”

“We’ll see about that,” she giggled, still blushing, “I mean I plan to put up a good fight. I’m going all the way for my team.”

“Are you going to be able to take it? How long before you crack?”

The cameras were flashing constantly, the lights were hot on her moist skin, and she could feel his erection pressing through the satin of her shorts and his pajamas. She felt sinful and daring. “Oh, I know that he’s going all the way, and I know he’s a master and will make me….you know…I’ll be begging for mercy but I know I can last all night. And I want to.”

Murmurs of approval swarmed around the girl and she reddened even more. The reporters were still peppering with questions when Bert, one of the commentators, called time. “It looks like Hef is ready to get going on his prisoner so let’s let them get to it. I know Kimberly will tell us all about it later.”

“You mean the blow by blow,” his partner added gleefully. The crowd roared as the publisher guided his captive towards the mansion and his own personal special event, already set up inside. Pretty little Kimberly staggered slightly as she was tugged along. She could hear the reporters still gushing over the situation. “Well, it looks like Hef has got his prisoner well in hand; as you know they are going for their own tussling match. We’ll have our cameras there to record every, ah…”

“Every stroke, Bert?”

“That’s right, Sue; we can expect some deep penetration into Kimberly’s, um… well, it’s going to be lively.”

“And sexy, Bert. I know Hef’s been waiting for this match up for a long time.”

The hosts were talking faster and faster, their imaginations taking hold. “That’s right, Sue; Kimberly can expect every move in the book and we’ll be recording all the inside action and showing it our audiences later today.”

“That’s right, it’ll be like you’re there and part of it all.”

“Doing Kimberly yourself.”

“Now, that would be fantastic; she’s fantastic. Did you see that body?”

“And she’s a real sweetheart too.”

“This is going to be one for the record books, I’m sure. A real championship bout. Bigger that than the Super Bowl…”

“You mean Super Ball.”

“I mean a real competition with both players at the top of their game. Gladiators in a fabulous contest….”

“Um, you know, we’re talking about sex; he’s taking her inside to ball her. You know that right?”

“Oh yeah, right…well, we’re gonna love the video replay.”

The banter faded away as Kimberly let the publisher guide her. He was energized and hustling his prisoner along, bursting with enthusiasm; if he had a tail it would be wagging. She, conversely, was a trembling, chary sex-kitten. With a sidelong glance she could see the bulge in his satin pajamas. She knew that they were not going to the master bedroom but to a special studio set up for the playoffs. She was going to be videotaped making love to the publisher; her heart skipped a beat as she felt a stirring deep inside herself.

The publisher had always been intimidating to the petite young Texan. During her time at the mansion Kimberly had watched him smoothly bed down most of the buxom beauties lounging at poolside between photo assignments. Even now, almost in his sixties, he remained an imposing, almost menacing figure for the eager cheerleader; she had listened wide-eyed to the stories the other girls told but now she was under his spell.

The publisher looked down at the young Pl@ym@te. She was gorgeous he thought to himself. Big creamy breasts, hourglass figure, and a flat stomach, how do these young women do it, he wondered. She stepped delicately into the mansion as he held the door for her; he got a good view of the plump round ass and shapely legs on the girl and felt his cock stiffen with anticipation. He was going to give her ass a good screwing, and soon.

Kimberly turned around; now she was in the shadow of the doorway and all he could see was the glow of her wide, upturned eyes. "Can we…," she gulped. Over the publisher’s shoulder she could see the press corps following. "Can we….do it with…without the cameras first?" she asked quietly.

He took her chin and lifted her face into the light. She radiated grace like an angel. “Of course not, I want to get your face on tape when I pleasure you the first time.” Still holding her tender face he stepped forward, driving the helpless girl backwards.

The video set-up was close by in a large room on the first floor. It was simply a large elaborate bed, slightly raked, like a stage. The bed was inside a cage-like scaffold structure holding the bright spotlights. Several cameras were on mounts and focused strategically around the bed. Kimberly gazed at the space; it looked like an arena for combat. She whimpered softly.

The publisher seemed unmoved. He sat on the bed and pulled Kimberly into his lap. She had her back to him and she could steady herself leaning against him with her tiny feet pressed into the short footboard in front of her. She looked up, the camera lens, a cold red glare inches away and looking straight at her. She blinked and saw herself blink on the monitor right behind the camera. She gulped as she realized she was watching herself on live TV.

“I want you to watch the monitors as much as possible,” he commanded, sliding a possessive arm around her waist and shifting her body and his legs so that her lush round ass was right up against his cock. “There’s another monitor there, for that camera; and another on this side. Whenever you look into the monitor it’s like your looking right into the camera.”

Kimberly was stunned. But the publisher went on talking. In her foggy mind, she heard his voice dimly but it was like a net tightening around her.

The publisher looked into the camera too, so facing forward they could watch each other’s eyes and bodies. He glared at Kimberly sternly.

The pliant captive took a deep breath and then took the first fateful step. Her unsteady hands went to the bottom edge of her shirt; her figures kneaded the fabric and she bit her lip in hesitation but he covered her hands and began to help the timorous girl pull up her top. Her polished fingers fumbled, but soon enough the top was unveiling her nipples for the camera and baring her shoulders. Then the tanned blonde worked the fabric over her long hair, her pretty head disappearing for a second then bursting out under an explosion of flying curls.

Gazing at the subtle swaying of the beautiful Pl@ym@te draped over him, his eyes never left the monitor as his reached around and cupped her heaving breasts. Kimberly watched too, mesmerized by the sight of his fingers kneading and mashing her soft creamy flesh. He pinched and twirled her nipples until they stabbed out at the camera, bright red and eager. “Oo,” she squealed as she tried to smile to the hungry lens.

The sexy blonde lifted a hand and reached behind, gently stroking his face. The publisher stared at the full, writhing breasts on the ex-cheerleader. The sight of the naked flesh of her succulent mounds squeezed under his greedy hands made her look even more naked. By jamming her tiny feet against the footrest she was able to lift her plush and cuddly body over his slightly. With her slender arm hooked around his neck and her shoulders and hair pressed into his chest, her soft round ass could sway erotically over his crotch.

She moved in response to the mauling of his hands on her fine soft breasts. Her free hand traced a line up his leg and began to circle around the bulge in his pajama bottoms. He could tell she was shocked by what she was doing, and he knew that she was a very shy young woman.

She lifted herself along his body and tightening her hand around his neck she twisted her face into his and kissed him. Her tongue skated over his lips then plunged into his mouth dancing with wild desire. Still squeezing one breast tightly he moved another hand over the warm satin covering her sex.

Her hot pink tongue was a wicked teasing sprite dancing over his face. Her wide eyes turned back to the monitor as she kissed him deeply. Her mouth tasted like an exotic wine at the most wild bacchanal. She whimpered into his mouth as she watched his finger slip under the lower edge of her satin shorts and she felt the nail scratch up her moist thigh, heading for the parting lips of her sex.

An electric spark burst deep inside her-- between the firm grip on her nipples and the firm penetration of his finger into her wet slit she was drowning in a blissful trembling. Kimberly broke the kiss and slid down his chest a bit, pressing her bosom into his hand and grinding her pelvis onto his finger.

“Look at the monitor,” he hissed. Kimberly could see his steely eyes glaring at her through the darkness of the camera. She watched her own wide eyes seeing her creamy chest heave and quiver with stimulation. The mounds filled most of that screen but on another monitor the shape of her pussy lips could be seen under the satin and his eager fingers.

His hand plunged in and Kimberly arched her back gasping. Those fingers, spreading her sex wide, were now the center of her being. A fury gripped her and she wanted more. “Oh, Mr. H!” she swooned in her delicate Southern drawl.

Both of Kimberly’s graceful hands alighted onto his fingers as they probed into her delicious pussy. Her body undulated over his like a soft wave. She let out a frenzied yelp as he touched a spot deep inside her. Her lush torso snapped up and she franticly began to tear at her satin shorts. Each rip was a sensual shriek and in moments the pink satin was nothing but a wild fringe hanging around her hips. His tanned hand looked like an invading monster as it plunged into the golden dew of her bush.

He twisted his hand like a screw and Kimberly sank back into the satin sheets; without pulling out his hand he shifted himself onto his knees near her face. Her delicate hands rested palms down on his hips.

Gesturing with his eyes he turned Kimberly’s face back to one of the monitors. She could feel his hand vibrating and pumping into her widespread legs as she watched it on the screen. Her breasts spread out like a feast and her frail face was next to the throbbing bulge of his pajamas.

He pushed his crotch forward and Kimberly’s fingers fumbled as she tugged and pulled at the fly. When it was open, she worked his erect cock out of the cloth. “Ooooh, Mr. H!” she gushed again; a guileless girl incapable of anything false, she couldn’t hide her girlish exuberance. Her pink tongue glistened in anticipation of the rock hard treat she was about to enjoy. As it hung before her, Kimberly's lush lips opened and took the tip in her mouth. The tool belonging to the man old enough to be her grandfather began to stiffen as she covered it with moist kisses. “Oh Mr. H! You’re so big!” she squealed as she licked and slurped over him.

The publisher undid his pants and let them drop to the floor. He groaned as he slid his cock into the beautiful blonde's mouth; she continued to gush wordless enthusiasm as she sucked him. His breathing slowed as he watched the innocent blonde's head bob up and down on his stiff shaft. His hand reached down to her sumptuous soft breasts and he rolled her nipple between his forefinger and thumb making it spring immediately to life. She may have a hot streak in her that she's unaware of, he thought.

He continued to fuck her with his other hand, keeping her centered before the silent gaze of the camera.

"Kimberly …” he gasped closing his eyes for a second, “I'm about to fuck you silly."

Kimberly felt her neck and ears redden and burn, but she continued to give the publisher the full attention of her tongue, her lips, even her pearly teeth. She worked her mouth up and down the rock hard shaft and back to the bulbous head, murmuring her appreciation the whole time.

The publisher abruptly grunted and grabbed his prisoner’s hair. From his heavy breathing, Kimberly knew that he was on the verge of shooting his seed.

"Fuck, you are so good, precious—so good," the publisher said.

Kimberly cupped his balls with one hand and stroked his tool with the other, preparing for the man to unload into her soft mouth. Instantly, he stiffened and the thick fire shot to the back of her throat. The publisher let out an animal cry, but didn't loosen his tight grip on her hair. With eager gulps and squeals Kimberly swallowed the thick, hot fire as it burst over her lips; her eyes flashed with love, intent on satisfying her man's demands. The publisher kept thrusting his cock into the young girl's mouth until it became slightly less hard. Kimberly was too eager to let him out of her mouth, but he finally pulled out, leaving her smacking her lips with pleasure.

"You’re such a good girl, Kimberly." The beautiful girl smiled happily as she leaned forward and parted her lips once more. She kneeled in front of him and licked him all over: his balls and belly, his thighs and cock; she lapped him up with the delicacy of a kitten. He played with her lush hanging breasts as she worked her mouth over him.

He grabbed Kimberly under her arm and pulled her to a standing position. As he did so, he turned her away from him and pulled her to him. Her backside was positioned next to his shaft and she could feel the warm wetness of his cockhead on the soft skin of her lush plump derriere. His big hand pulled on her nipples and breasts. Then he whispered in her ear, "Go lay on the bed, I'm going to fuck you."

“Oh,” she squealed once more, her body tingling.

The publisher watched as the naked young Pl@ym@te walked away from him to the bed. The cheeks of her luscious bottom were perfectly round and plush.
As Kimberly began to pull back the covers on the bed the publisher spoke. "Kimberly, lay on top of the bed, I want the cameras to see you."

He watched as her downcast eyes told him that she was going to do whatever he said. Her big breasts lay proudly on her chest as she did as she was told. His cock began to show signs of life again at sight of the bountiful gifts she offered. She could see her own eyes flash in the monitor; her pupils narrowed sensuously-- fixed on the red light of the camera, then on the man approaching her body.

He took hold of her shapely legs and pushed them against his shoulders as he lowered himself down. Her warm skin slid over his chest. The publisher lay atop of Kimberly, his massive body completely covering the petite blonde woman beneath him. Her calves rested on his shoulders with her knees crushed against her own breasts. His belly pushed over the back of her thighs and his legs and arms kept her pinned down under him.

As her feet were pushed over her head, Kimberly’s gorgeous sex unfolded like a flower in the sun. Her tiny hands guided the tip of his shaft over her glistening outer lips. The head of his shaft glowed like a missile as it rushed towards her depths. She let go of his shaft and held his arms; his weight thrust forward and he pierced her, drawing a fragile gasp from the young girl’s lips.

The tiny girl writhed and twisted, pinned under his arms, her legs straight in the air around his neck and his hips hammering into her thighs. She let out pants and groans
as he pistoned his massive shaft in and out of Kimberly's defenseless pussy.

Her sheath quivered and gushed warm honey over him. The deepest muscles inside her rippled and squeezed his cock like thousands of delicate, loving fingers. Her plump juicy body writhed in sweet agony as he rammed into her softness over and over again. Her gentle round face glowed with a delicate bliss as she gave herself completely. She had closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them they fixed on a monitor and she watched almost hypnotized as he ground into her tender body over and over again. She felt his shaft growing hotter and thicker as it drilled in deeper and deeper with each powerful thrust.

He had been working her for nearly half an hour and Kimberly's body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Abruptly he pulled out and dropped her legs to the sheets; his mouth opened wide and he clamped down on a magnificent nipple even as he lunged into her again.

Her well-formed thighs were splayed beneath him and her ankles wrapped the backs of his calves as he rode her now. He held both ass cheeks in his hands as he pulled his hungry shaft nearly entirely out of her pussy before he slammed it in with an audible slapping sound against her flesh. Kimberly's arms were around the publisher's torso and could not reach all the way around his back. Instead, her hands held on to his back as her body absorbed the heavy shocks of each of his thrusts. Kimberly watched in monitor the incongruous sight of the older man's hard body pounding into her softness. Her massive breasts shook like jelly with each thrust and she grunted as he jammed into her.

Yet despite her fear and trepidation, Kimberly's trembling thighs offered no resistance to the wanton assault by the publisher's cock. In fact, the fucking had gone on so long that Kimberly's sheath was bathed in moisture and squeezed the publisher's thrusting shaft as tightly as if it belonged to her alone.

Each time the publisher pumped his massive hardness into Kimberly, she moaned audibly.

"Ohhhhhh."

"Ohhhhhh."

"Ohhhhhh."

At last the man's body stiffened and he cried out as he began to empty his seed into the young woman below him. Kimberly's body finally gave in as well; his orgasm affected her libido like a match tossed into an oven full of unlit gas, her bliss ready to explode into a fury of ecstasy. Her cries could be heard out on the lawn; all the other Pl@ym@tes smiled knowingly and offered silent prayers for the luscious Kimberly.

The man then lay on top of her for several seconds before he rolled his spent body off of hers. Kimberly was completely devoured and overwhelmed at what she had just done. As soon as she could, she scampered off of the bed and hurried to the bathroom. The publisher watched the young Pl@ym@te's naked body scurry away breathlessly.

After washing herself Kimberly, wrapped in a towel, came out of the bathroom. The publisher was still naked on the bed, his cock glistening with her juices. He was using the remote control on the television.

"Watch this," he said.

Kimberly turned to the television and saw herself on the screen in spasms of orgasm while he fucked her.

Kimberly nodded that she understood. With that she opened the towel and let it fall; she climbed onto the bed, bending her face towards his shaft.

The publisher smiled as her warm full lips wrapped around his cock.

[profvolup]

To begin, I was inspired our Playmate-Proser keats' story 'Anna Sophia Berglund is grounded.'

• http://vintage-erotica-forum.com/sho...&postcount=140

It was this passage ...

'So everybody thinks my job is great and a lot of it is great, at least it was for a long while. Now it’s kind of like being in a Vincent Price movie. It was always a little risky; I’m just the handyman and they’ve kind of let the Mansion get a little old and rundown so I’m fixing a lot of plumbing, unclogging toilets, and dealing with out of code wiring. But I also get to hang around with the girls and get to lay some pipe in some playmates too. But even that got a little weird with those Girls Next Door broads hanging around and trying to turn me into some kind of slave. And the boss wasn’t that happy to be sharing with me but now I’m not even sure if he knows I’m here, which is good ‘cause he used to fire me every once in awhile when he caught me with a Playmate.'

That reminded me of a short-story I wrote years ago, per request of a friend, about one glamour model he adored the moment I showed her to him. In fact, despite his 'sustainment MO,' he nutted in barely 5 minutes to the set. Hence this story. I used the 'Maintenance Supervisor' role-play as well. Hope some of you enjoy it (slighly modified from the original) ...



******************

The Part-Time Super
******************


'The Prof,' as everyone called him, was away for the week on business.

Owning his own apartment complex, Prof served as his own 'super' when in-town. The building was automated, including dispatching contracted maintenance to the site when anything went seriously wrong. For anything less serious, there was an on-line site to request, or a phone number to call if that wasn't enough.

As was the case, when he was out, you were the stand-in, 'Part-Time Super,' of course. After all, he let you stay in your apartment rent-free, while you had fairly regular day job that rarely kept you late. And the maintenance routine was fairly self-servicing via the automated system that automatically dispatched handimen, or even a woman.

It was only when a customer got irate in a way the 'handiman' couldn't handle, did you need to bother the Prof. It rarely happened.

So when he was out, you opted to spend your evenings in Prof's lush penthouse suite. He kept the 2nd largest bedroom clean for you, like any other 'special guest.' And it also projected a bit of 'authority' when it came to an in-person meeting too. Prof rented by the week as much as year-long leases, pre-furbished as well as bare.

It wasn't anything mega-posh, as he lacked a roof pool or anything. It was a middle class area, almost out-of-place, away from downtown, and on the outskirts of the corporate suburbs. As Prof joked, "Lower to middle managers and consultants types are here, whether a week, or booking quarters for something local as they often come in."

In fact, you were one of the few, 'regular' tenants. If it wasn't free, you wouldn't be there. It was overpriced for the area. There were other options. It really catered to those who needed 'convenience,' not so much 'value.' Thus, it still had a bit of an aura of 'above average,' even if not completely sophisticated, let alone it wasn't where a C-level would want to be.

So as different people would come and go from the complex, either just a week or just in and out and not their primary residence, you never heard much. And rarely did anyone bother you.

And tonight was really not a night you wanted to be bothered. Work was hell, and you even called Prof to warn him you might be late getting to the apartment. He said that was okay, and whenever you got there would be fine. He said he'd let the on-call, rent-a-receiptionist know that you'd arrive after hours, so they could inform any maintenance called there would be no supervisor for a bit.

But it was not even 5 minutes into getting home that you got a call directed from Apartment 69-F. Prof always warned Apartments in 67, 68 and 69 on the 6th floor, just below the penthouse, were not to be ignored. As much as you wanted to resist, you realized you didn't want to let Prof down. You immediately answered the phone and a pleasing, womanly voice spoke, "Sorry to bother you, but I've got an immediate problem with my plumbing."

You tried to be courteous, as much as the voice on the other side sounded like you wanted to meet her in-person. "If it's immediate, you should probably call the emergency maintenance number."

"I'm not sure they are the most appropriate for this," she chuckled, "it's not gushing or anything."

"I'll be right down," you informed her.
69-F Indeed

Before you could knock on the door, it opened, as if the occupant was waiting to hear your footsteps. You looked at the resident, and you almost dropped your eyes fully to her chest. F-cups and a body begging for a 69, indeed.



"Sorry I didn't call maintenance," she says, "but Prof lets me stay here for free. So he doesn't want me to call maintenance unless the apartment is being damaged. He takes care of things for me more ... personally," she tugs at her throw, revealing more of her top.

"It's okay," you try to regain your composure. You want to honestly help her, at least first. Everything else will come, especially if she is appreciative. "So where is your plumbing issue?"

She turns away from you and walks towards the back. This gives you a brief moment to look at her, as much as you can see through her throw. That teddy definitely has a snap crotch, and her ass and hips are as fine as her rack. But then she stops, and puts her leg up on a table.

Opening her throw up a little bit, she reveals the teddy on her perfectly shaped, hourglass body. "Are you seeing everything you want?"



You are taken aback by her forwardness, almost embarrassed. In your search for answers, she points in front of her, to the mirror that gave up your eyes. But before you can respond, she gives you even more of a view.

She takes her leg off of the table, and opens her throw, almost dropping it except for it catching on her arms on its downward fall. She pushes her thumbs into her teddy, revealing more of her globes without straining the thin, string straps running up to her shoulders too much. "I'm a model that goes by the name of Barbie," she adds. "But like most men you're probably used to seeing me and jacking off quickly, rather than having to sustain a conversation."



"Ummm, no," you try to search for words. This woman already assumes your 'just another wanker,' and doesn't know how long you normally sustain yourself, even when you are aroused. But now is probably not the time to explain. "You're too lovely of a woman to not enjoy to her fullest," is what you mutter, with a smile.

She takes in your comment, but keeps her deadspan pout. "Just how the fuck am I supposed to answer that?" she barks back.



Fucking With You

But then her demeanor changes, and she cracks a smile. "I'm just fucking with you," she chuckles. "Prof said you were a gentleman of both taste and sustainment. You'd be surprised how many guys immediately try to flatter me with how little it takes for my pictures to get them off. (Sigh) ... that gets old."



Her change sets you at ease. And then you decide to press the issue, "So ... where is that piping you are having trouble with?"

"Hmmm," she ponders. "You're cuter than I thought. Prof just thought you needed a little stress relief after work. Maybe a little strip tease?"



"That might not be enough after the say I've had," you push the issue even a bit further. "Something that might help both of us."

She turns around and shows you her voluptuous form. "The photographers are starting to say I'm past my time," she comments. "Would you tap this ass before a woman 10 years younger?" She starts to loosen her hair.



"I'd consider it my honor to do so," you answer.

"Hmmm," she moans, "I wonder which orifice I would provide for one of your legendary marathons?" She turns around and tugs on her teddy, having already pulled the straps from around her arms, pulling it aside to provide a glimpse at her very trimmed pubic.




Fucking With Her

Before you can answer, she gets up and starts taking off her teddy. "Let's remove these from the equation, shall we?" she smiles as she takes them off.



"Now how shall you take me at first?" she shows off her body.



"I'm thinking my hourglass from behind," Barbie continues.



"Maybe my succulent ass sticking oouuu...," she doesn't get to finish.



You immediately stick yourself into her, your pants dropping just moments ago. And it's not long before you realize, you're not going to last. "Oh fuck! Of fuck!"

"Looks like Mr. Sustainment had a bit too much stress today," Barbie smiles. "Either that, our I'm just too fucking hot for your first time."


Popping Quick
Try as you might, grabbing her sides, bust, anything to try to sustain yourself, it was over quick. You flooded her insides and took care of your piping, by flooding hers.

As you eventually withdrew, she lowered herself to the ground, and attempted to stick one leg in between her ass cheeks to keep the cum from just dripping all over the floor. She looked up at you, knowing you didn't mean to cum so quickly, and gave you a pouty, "you needed that."



"I'll make it up to you next time," you answered.

"Oh yeah, you will," she pouted again. Then she smiled, "I know your typical mode of operation, from all that Prof has told me. I definitely know that you will."

[profvolup]

From what I read, Lorna Morgan (VEFthread) has a husband, possibly as a boyfriend earlier in her modeling career. She's been monogamous as I understand it, at least with men, and finally he knocked her up in her 30s. Lorna only took a completely new and even deeper turn in my lust as she plumped, filled in and otherwise packed in curves into areas where I never expected. Her belly never really exploded too much, which happens when a woman has a base hourglass form that packs it in all the right places.

To me, she is absolute perfection at every weight, every size, every look. She is the ultimate lay thin or thick, and a total fantasy tit-fuck that only increases with thickness.

I respect her monogamy, and even find it a turn on. It means another stud out there is getting it so fucking good, likely because he's a gentleman who deserves such. As I was writing this, I didn't know if I should make this a 'pullout' type of story, where the male party fucks her and pulls out, possibly even with a condom, or some really 'ultra fantasy' where 'anything goes.' But as much as I could even imagine myself fucking only her rack for "safe sex," I really cannot bring myself to assume whether or not she would cheat on her husband.

So, in the end, I admitted I love Lorna for her body. I couldn't try to imagine myself taking her. Instead, I tried to imagine the moment her husband could not control himself, and decided to knock her up, and let that be 'my fantasy,' 1st person. Maybe it's not how it happened, but it's how I could imagine it, if I was her husband. There's just something that triggers inside of me that just makes me believe a woman has such the perfect genes for the perfect body and beauty, that I want to see her DNA continue.

A "Darwin Award," of the conception-kind, wank ... before she gained all that curvature and thickness after being knocked up, and post-pregnancy (which I love even more, like a husband should).

*****************
A Very Magical Show
*****************

My love was hitting her 30s. It don't know if was out of some prior fantasy or some need to feel young, but she wanted to spend her birthday in Vegas. It wasn't the first time she had gone. And she had traveled without me to many events in her modeling career. But she wanted to go to Vegas, with me, not for work, not for any shooting, just her and I for some fun.

Of course, it was not long before she went noticed. And despite her promise not to work, she gave into doing a cameo, near-gratis, during a variety show. Guess that little fantasy as a girl being a sexy assistant came out in her, and it wouldn't eat up too much of our day. She went in the back room and came out a few minutes later, wearing fishnet all the way up to her waist, with sheer long, open hand gloves that started at the middle of her upper arms. It was paired with a black, soft, one piece teddy that might as well have been sheer with her curves oozing out.



I was already drooling before she practiced her little routine, and then she moved. It was if I was watching her in slow motion, like a pornographic film slowed down to half speed, only real-time, and she was clothed with no man. Her hips rotated, her breasts shimmied, her entire form was an erotic symphony. Her one piece was a teddy that hugged her sides, curved around her hips and made no attempt to control her breasts.

I could not take my eyes from her midsection, and how tiny it was surrounded by those hanging breasts above, and that fit waist below. I wanted to grab her, press my body into her, press my pelvis into her crotch, and lift my hands just high enough that her hanging breasts would cover them.

Eventually my eyes did not go unnoticed by my love, and she smiled briefly, before looking away. Then it was was no longer the performing the sleek moves of a magicians assistant, but merging in a dance as if from a coming strip tease. Even the few professional around an empty stage were all staring, and it several were clearly getting hard, right in their pants. Finally, focused on business, the magician barked, "Stop fucking them with your moves."

The few people there laughed, but the magician was all serious.




Lorna stopped, fully guilty of what she was doing, and put her hands on her hips.

Now at this point, the 30'ish sag in her rack, the fullness of her hips, the bit of slouch in her stand, might make people discard her as a top model. But not me. She was real, she was glowing, she was softening, she was becoming the most beautiful of women. No 20-something model could pull that figure and beauty off. Lorna was perfection.

As she looked down, I lost myself in her rack again, and her dimples, and her hair, and everything. The curves just oozed in ways she never did in years prior. She was the most beautiful she had ever been. She was a total, voluptuous goddess, in a definition that is very hard to convey unless you see it. It's not about tits, it's not about curves, it's about presence. She was driving me insane, just standing there, not even in a model pose, not even in any bend, shape or position that should be erotic.

I wanted to become one with her more than I had ever before.

And she saw it too. Her eyes got big, then her smile. I don't know if she brought me to Vegas to enjoy her like other men enjoy her, maybe capture a bit of that spark we had when we first met, or if this was just a spontaneous result. I had never taken Lorna for granted, but right now, I felt like I had not enjoyed her enough. I could see she had trouble containing her own lust, and something had to give.

"Can you give us 15 minutes backstage," Lorna asked the magician. "Alone," she added.




No one had to ask for clarification with whom she was talking about. As the few professionals exited, the magician flapped his arms, then shrugged his shoulders. He then left.

Lorna looked at me again, and laughed, "What are we doing?"

I didn't answer her, I just walked towards her slowly. Putting my arm around her small midsection, I walked past her, causing her to turn around to face me towards backstage. Leaving my arm out as I walked past, she ran her hand down my arm until it met my hand.

I led her backstack, just behind the sheer curtains, and started to nibble on her neck from behind her, her rear left quarter. She was beautiful and I wanted to give her everything I could afford, and then more of my soul. With my hair brushing her left check, my lips just below her left ear, I don't know why I said it. But it just came out, "Throw your birth control pills out."

She looked at me by just cocking her head slightly left, enough to see the pupils of her eyes struggling to see me at the extremes of her peripheral vision. Her mouth was open, and it was a bit of a shock. It's not that I did not want kids, but I kept putting it off every month when she brought it up. But I was now over that, she was me. I wasn't going spring this on her later, I had finally realized it was time. She was just too perfect not to procreate with, and it was my lust finally bringing out my love, taking my fear away.

She didn't answer affirmatively. She didn't need to. I pulled her teddy to the side, and tore through her fishnets tights. As I probed the lips of her entrance, they were as wet as I've ever felt them without foreplay. Then came her command as she tilted her head slightly again, "Get in."



I pulled both of her arms back, and she let out a gasp and even a little chuckle. As my erect member searched for her entrance without any assistance from either of her hands, I took the moment to look over at the mirror to our left side. If there was a goddess of fertility, I think she would be my Lorna.

It was at that moment that my hips glided forward and I curved into Lorna's depths. I wanted to feel every inch of her curves through that teddy, but my eyes just lost themselves as if I was watching a pornographic scene outside of myself. Feeling her I would only cum faster, and I wanted to starve off what would likely be an emotionally-driven, fast, premature ejaculation. The rush of the moment overcame her as well, and it was very difficult for her not to quiver and flood her own canal. It was the most velvet intercourse I had ever experienced with her without any foreplay, and just when I wanted to slow down after a few minutes, I had already hit the point of no return.

Letting go of her arms, I grabbed across her stomach with my left arm, and across her breasts with my right. Cupping her left breast with my right hand, almost starting to clasp it to release the stress and tention that was shooting through my manhood right up into her, her rear pressed back into my pelvis. She turned her head and we met for one deep snog. I breathed through my nose as she moaned, muffling her sounds as she breathed the same.

My first convulsion did not break our kissing, but my second was violent enough that we were exchanging saliva at the tip of our tongues. She pushed her tongue back into my mouth as we joined pelvis to ass again in one motion, no longer opposites as I was spurting inside of her instead of going in and out. As calming as it was, the thought of her voluptuous body housing the womb my batter was filling up took it to a new level. Conception, actual conception, was turning me on in ways beyond what I had ever fantasized it might be.

I pulled from her mouth and leaned back. Pulling both of her straps to the sides, her breasts were exposed and I cupped both, one with each hand. I threw my pelvis back and then pounded forward hard, three times in long succession, as if the full release of all my batter was dependent upon it. She smiled as I finally started to hunch over, and press the side of my left cheek into her back. She patted my hips and part of my ass with her right hand, letting me know she understood why I needed her so badly. I stayed in her as long as I could, until I heard voice return a few minutes later. She pulled her teddy back to its center, and we made our way back to the service elevators to return to our room.

I could not stop kissing her in the elevator, and pressed the close door button when it stopped short of our level. My cum was dripping through the bottom of the teddy, all over the carpet, but we didn't care. Finally reaching our level, we sprinted to our room, looking at each other like this wasn't remotely over. As I pushed her on the bed, and proceeded to give myself sloppy seconds, I thought about what we would both be thinking some 9 months from now.

Because what was happening in Vegas was going to not going to stay in Vegas.

[profvolup]

I began this lead-in over in the 'Wank Club' VEF Thread ...

Originally Posted by profvolup

It's a rare week that I'm home, alone, working remotely, while my wife (busty, brainy PhD) is off working on finalizing a new course offering several states away. Usually she's the one that works remotely at home, or with local colleges, while I'm traveling away.

My wife's print magazine, Health, an American magazine with a circulation with a little over a million, paid subscribers, came in the mail yesterday. I wouldn't call myself a massive Kate Upton fan (she's killer hot, and would be a killer trophy wife, but not my 'poster girl' type), and I'm usually not into blondes nearly as much. But from the moment I saw it, I didn't even need to read the caption, 'Strong, Authentic, and Unretouched,' to see it.



She's still wearing makeup, taking a pose and many other things, so I wouldn't call the pictures 'totally natural.' But I really love seeing freckles/age spots, 'pinches' in skin as the womanly softness around around her sides, as so many other things, not 'brushed out,' in the pictures. I wish more magazines would publish such pictures of women 'untouched,' even if not without some 'work,' whether she's 27 or 47. Show her in all her beauty as I would if I saw her in-person. And that's when I was 'drawn in.'

If you know me, I'm in to curves, the wider the better. I can appreciate thin women too, even size 4 or even 2. But I've long has a serious, cock-stiffening affair -- especially in-person, in-the-sack -- with the widest of figures. In 2D pics and videos, my preference isn't too bad, but in VR, like in-person, oh, I'll go BBW at times -- as long as that rack sticks out more than the belly -- that's really the only requirement in the body, although I prefer hourglass or top-heavy apple.

But in the case of Ms. Upton's new cover, it wasn't even the cleavage in the cover. Although I won't deny her bust does 'round out' her beauty, and she has that 'just widdening enough' figure I can adore, especially now, less than a year removed from pregnancy. At the same time, she's always been a slight more 'straight shaped,' even if a tad top-heavy too -- rarer for ladies 165-170cm (5'5"-5'7") that tend to be more bottom-heavy (and still hot, like Siri), than pure 'hourglass' in form with matching hips and a smaller mid-section.

Which brings me to the erotic story (with masturbation), which I will continue over in the 'Erotic Fiction' VEF Thread, instead of here ...

And now, the rest of the story, the Erotic Fiction (with masturbation lead and reality mixed in) ...

**********************
Masturbation Preamble
**********************

As I flipped through the pages as I entered our country home, I reached the kitchen and set my things down on the table. I found myself placing the magazine on the table too, closing it back to its cover ... but not taking my eyes from it. And that's when I went ahead and opened my belt, and dropped my wool business slacks to my knees. There was just something so pure about that cover, and so pure about letting my middle-age lust pour out, not caring that I'm just about old enough to be her father.

I was never one to 'jack off' and 'spurt' over magazines. In fact, I only did it once ... to a Dakota Kelly spread back in the mid '90s just before I married. Understand I've never been alone, residence-wise. I went right from living with my parents during early college to my wife-to-be, who I met in college, and married shortly after, very young, mid-college, even for my generation. I mean, I had to have her, be with her, forever. It was a drive like no other, and I acted upon it, and I still don't regret it.

And for some reason, as I was throwing out my mags as a condition of my wife's -- this was before porn became a staple in our marriage in our 30s, as she finally admitted she was into it far more than I, and she is also a bigger 'tit hound' than even me (she was embarrassed to admit her lusts) -- I dropped the magazine onto my bed, and started just 'choking it.' And I utterly sucked at 'hitting the target' as my ropes flew well past it, with only some of the thick, stringy stream broke open and only a fraction of those first, quad of ejaculations 'splattered' back down on Ms. Kelly. I got more on the wall I think, of which I was glad it was latex paint at my parents.

Even today, when I'm in hotel rooms, sitting at my notebook, jacking off while reading here in 'The Club,' among other things, I still like to 'paint the walls.' It kinda became an indirect, accidental fetish, not purpose, I don't 'aim' to do it. But if I don't get the towel or the palm of my hand in front of my helmet as a 'blast deflector,' I'll sometimes shoot one, two or even three ejaculations into it, or across the floor (if the desk isn't facing the wall), until I do move something to catch/defelct it. I always clean it up, although one time -- and this is still one of the hottest things I will always remember -- one of the places I was staying at for 3 months, the middle aged -- probably +10 years on me at the time -- Latina cleaning woman even disclosed to me, "Don't worry about the wall and floor ... I'm paid to disinfect it."

At first I was lost in what she said, no really, I didn't follow. But then it dawned on me, with this massive, rush of embarrassment and fear. And as I finally got the strength to start to apologize, she just smiled, "I have a teenage son. You're as cute as he is."

We never spoke about it again, and it took me a few days to fully appreciate what she was saying. Especially since she always cleaned my room, a weekly rental, on Wednesday. I always leave at least US$20 if I stay a full week, possibly more if the room costs more than a few hundred for the week, for the maid, finding out which day they came. I always stayed in these extended types, and the cheapest ones around. After all, I bill all-inclusive, expenses are cut right from my direct income, even if I don't have to pay income taxes on much of what I spend.

Maybe she did it for me, and not herself. I'll never know, we both had rings on. But she smiled the few times I'd see her during the week. And I started to leave a 'full, fresh blast' every Wednesday morning ... along with US$60. I almost did $100, but didn't want to do it once, only to reduce it later. But at some point it was really 'our affair,' the first one I had with a married woman (and I have never had an affair since being engaged with my wife) since I was a teenager -- the only time I did, and still regret it, as did she quickly, cutting it off fast (while I didn't want to back then, so innocent and oblivious to the damage). Oh yeah, I pulled up every curvy Latina I wanted and had that release of Wednesday morning wood.

But I am also in my mid 40s now, and not one to 'just jack.' Sure, when I was a late teen with my first porn collection -- yeah, I was really late to pornography, even for my generation, and had tit-fucks and even intercourse before, very 'innocent' -- that thing would come up dozens of times per day. It would easily 'taunt me' a good dozen times, and it was just a matter of how much I was going to take it to the finish, if an option given timing and privacy. And there was a time, definitely by our mid 20s through my mid 30s, where my wife was 'more open' than she was at 18, or even 21 for that matter, that I'd come home, bend her over the kitchen table, living room couch or whatever, and we'd 'go at it,' with minimal foreplay -- especially into her 30s.

But into my 40s it's more of those, 'Oh, you're awake' type deals, not so much 'on-call, anytime.' But for some reason ... I felt like I was 18 --well, maybe 28 more realistically-- again, with Ms. Upton's cover. So ....

**********************
Opening My Marriage's Next Phase (Kate Upton)
**********************

I stroked that beef stick which was swelling thick'n hard, for Ms. Upton, dropping into a fantasy like I had just caught my wife in a similarly outfit of a similar age, in public -- back when we used to fuck in public, before our careers, before her Doctorate, before all the bullshit that would ruin us in the US if we ever fucked out-in-the-open again. Those age spots down and into her cleavage, that neck that seemed to only get 'more sensitive' as she approached 30, the tits that were still pert, but getting softer and felt even better than when I first started sliding in them when she was 18.

So I couldn't help but start imagining myself as Justin Verlander, her husband, especially as these emotions and ties are far more required as I masturbate into my 40s, than the 'oh shit, you're up again,' like in my 20s, let alone teens. I especially remember those worrisome hours upon hours in the classroom or on the track or at baseball or American football practice when it 'swung up' and 'wouldn't go down' and any 'movement' at all would 'brush' up against my clothes. It's funny how we men never stop worrying about the situation we're in when we get hard, although now in the kitchen, alone, an acre away from the nearest neighbor ... it was all gone, all inhibition ... so calming.

And I never look at husbands as 'lucky,' but 'right' ... for her. I'm not envious of her husband, I'm happy for him ... and her. And it's in that moment I put myself into the role of her husband, and took the spoils of everything we stood foor.

Running my hand into her jean shorts I had just unbuttoned, but not quite unzipped, I sucked on her right neck, causing her to wiggle and giggle, before closing her eyes and beginning to coo, but not quite moan. As she moved her dyed hair from my cheek, it reminded her that I preferred her as a darker brunette, like her eyebrows, especially as it surrounds that greenish tint in her eyes. She had returned to dying it lighter after the pregnancy, as was expected of her as a model, and she knew it wasn't my favorite. Although she had to laugh as she thought of the only 'approval' she'd ever get from me for 'going lighter,' "You can go lighter when you gray, that I'll approve of."

She thought it was sweet, some sort of statement that I was looking forward to 'growing old with her.' Except the reality is ... yeah, I actually like gray streaks in brunettes more than blond ones.

Of course, I couldn't resist bringing my mouth to hers, and going for my first, deep snog. It was overdue, especially after all the 'eye fucking' from the mailbox to the long run of my house an acre away, and into the kitchen. It was as much as I'm sure her husband would feel, having to walk over after spoting her against the wall. Secluded, finally, no photographers, no fans, nobody ... just a random, freak reality, or was it? Maybe it was by her design. Me looking her over, appreciating all that she is, no touch-ups, no swimsuit, no lingerie ... but plenty to oogle at the same time. How she wanted to be, comfortable, yet still 'made up' and as 'sexy as she can be,' in-person, in-reality.

But for me, it was that glow. Every woman, post-pregnancy, has this glow, this softness to their smile and down their body, that is only brought out with the changes in a body with a child. The dimples in her half-smile folded more and ran longer. The roundness of her cheeks were flushed into more of an 'experience' demeanor. More spots appeared on her neckline and chest. Her breasts had started to sag more, exposing more stretches and imperfections, after nine months of swelling and their nipples being sucked on. And that pevlis bone has fanned out more, ensuring she'd never be able to get closer than +4 dress sizes to her pre-maternal, thinnest form.

And that's when -- back in my kitchen -- I felt myself work out some seminal fluid my prostate had started to release minutes earlier, but had made it to my tip. And now I felt my middle finger, followed by my index and ring fingers, coat themselves with the lubrication. So I ran them down the full length of my thick shaft, right along its sensitive underpiping, before returning to that sensitive 'sweet spot' right underneath my oversized, mushroom helmet.

It was then I imagined Kate pulling from my lips, and looking right at me, "What are you waiting for?"

It takes years for a ripe, young woman to enjoy a man, even though she had lovers before me. Some call it clockwork, but I call it 'adjustment.' Plus she had never had a mushroom helmet like mine, and once the condoms came off, it wasn't nearly as 'smooth' of an experience for her bareback, with no latex 'constraining it' and make it 'more flush' with my already wide, oval stem. I still remember the first time, after we were engaged, although she still made me pull out. And that didn't change until our wedding night. She even pulled out her IUD at the reception, in private, with her mother, who had been begging for years for grandkids, as if some symbol of, "Yes, it's now time."

But she rode cowgirl, controlling the depth, the penentration, the duration, those early months once wed. Although she provided oral, it wasn't her thing, especially not to climax. No, it was pumping those breasts, slickened with her drool, until the wedding. And then it was all spurting inside her, on her schedule, with her in control. Although she'll never agree, I still think it was when I finally got her from behind, doggie, on all-4s, after a shoot. She was so wet, so horny, not having been with me for weeks, especially since the photographers expected her to be 'sterile,' not even a tampon as an option, and we both wanted it. I didn't last 2 minutes, and when I reached forward to cup those breasts as I 'blew past' that 'point of no return,' it was those ejaculations that flooded her tubes, no question.

And I didn't get 'doggie style' again either, until that third trimester when it, and spoon, were about the only positions. But still, I couldn't just 'go at it.' I still had to 'read her.' I still had to 'look for the signs' of her 'approval' or 'discomfort.'

After the pregnancy ... well, you know how it goes. Sex kinda becomes secondary, even after she's 'ready' again, physically. The long nights and days, even with help, is still ... involved. And the emotional strains early on, I wasn't thinking of sex, but only her needs outside of it. Sure, there were times she let me unload in that flesh, and after the IUD was implanted, I still let her control 'the tenderness,' as she wasn't ready to get pregnant again, so I pulled out. Sure, we debated her getting her tubes tied or me having mine cut, but she said she thought she wanted another ... just not now. I had agreed. Although she had said something that made me want to get mine cut, instead of hers, "I'll be more willing to go 'all-the-way' if there's no sperm to taste."

But she also had to get back to shooting eventually, and the times apart were bigger again. Just as her insides had stretched and opened, which would take years of me plowing her to achieve without a child, she was unavailable. Which made this all the bigger reality.

"Get the fuck in me!" she snapped me back from those thoughts from months ago once more. And dhe wasn't one to curse ... unless she really wanted something badly. I was still a bit of a shock to hear it from her. And that's when she told me everything, "You can't give it to me hard enough now!" Fuck! Had I had died and gone to heaven?!

I had her shorts down around her ankles, and her panties lowered mid-thigh, just as she got mine open, and they dropped to the ground. I didn't even get my briefs off, and she just pulled my growing erection out with one hand, while cupping my scrotum over and out with the other as well. We embranced before I entered her, as I now brought my right hand to the back of her head. I was going to 'bang her' up against this rockface, and the last thing I needed was for her to have her head hit the wall at any time. I would remain there for the duration, with my fingers digging into the strains on the back her supermodel topping, able to control where her lips were should I decide to French her.

I was just going to slide myself into her, standing, but she had other plans. Wrapping her arms around my neck, I naturally brought my left arm across her lower back, and I slowly lifted her up against the rockface. Digging my knees into the wall, her body slid down atop of my member, her thighs coming to rest atop of mine and her cavern was completely impaled by the full length of my shaft, sans maybe an inch. She had no trouble taking me now, and something was telling me she wanted to really 'feel' what she had never felt before.

We started rocking, her body first motioning, and mine following, ten-fold. I wanted to pump her. And I was going to pump her in ways she had never let me before, at least not more than a few seconds. Despite her legacy bio, she wasn't 65kg (145lbs) and more, and a good ten-plus kilos more. And that's how I wanted her now. She was still a 'ragdoll' to me, and as long as I was strong enough to 'throw her around,' I was going to ... now that she was letting me. This was the new phase of our marriage, still with all the challenges in timing, combined with parenthood and so many other things eating at both of us.

When we could fuck ... we were going to fuck! I pulled her head into mine and Frenched her more. A full minute passed as I started pumping into her more than grinding, and she kicked her legs in motion to sway her own body so I got more of a 'thrust' into her. But at some point, it wasn't enough for her ... or me for that matter.

She wrapped her entire arms around my neck, and across my shoulders, and brought her body even higher, which my hips along thrusted up and into more. She had half her weight on me, at my shoulders as well as atop of my thighs. The other half was almost horizontal, into her ass, pressed into the rockface by my opposing pelvis, against my left arm that was around her, just above her waist, and clasping her right side into the same position, each time I withdrew my penis back from her womanhood.

I started slamming myself into her, harder than ever before. No inhibitions, no 'waiting for approval' no 'is this okay' looks or concerns. As much as I hated to admit it, I had missed it. I had missed it from the groupies to the random lays, and even a few steady, but far more experienced, lovers I had taken, and had bareback before her. I hadn't had it in years, and I had missed it. And now ... they were all my wife, giving it to me, for the first time. And I loved my wife, and even more selfishly, more now that she was letting me spear her like this, unrestricted.

And she knew it too. She knew how bad I wanted it, had missed it, but couldn't give it to me prior. But now, she had reached that comfort level, some 9 months after the pregnancy, and wanted it. She wanted to experience it. The sex we had before just 'wouldn't cut it for her' either. Was she the most comfortable right now? Probably not. But was it 'uncomfortable'? No. So she just gave in. It was a whole new level of 'clockwork.' It would take many more years to fully explore it, but now ... she was open, far more open, than ever before, and could.

Which made her next move even more unexpected.

She leaned back, taking her shoulders into the rockface, only my right hand between the stones and her head now. Weight shifted back almost completely to my thighs, with my left arm holding less and less weight. As I pull my left hand from behind her back, and brought it to hold her right pelvis bone, she cupped both of her breasts. Licking her hips, she spoke once more, "Right now, tens of thousands of men roping gallons of cum all over the world to this body. And you're the only one that gets to cum in it!"

Where did this woman come from? The said sometimes pregnancy, and all that material care and emotion has a darker, sexier side that finally 'comes out,' especially as she feels 'changed' and even 'more capable' of taking a lover. But this was making me forget every other woman I had ever had, physically and sexually, behind the fact that she was the monther of my child, and the most important person in my life other than that child.

Reaching forward with my left hand, I grabbed her bust, still completely bundled in her bikini top and mid-tied overshirt. I squeezed through the two layers of fabric, and that's when I felt myself hit that 'point of no return.' I then selfishly pulled her back towards me. As I felt her arms wrap around my neck and shoulder again, I pulled her entire body away from the rockface, after I dropped both of my hands to each of her ass cheeks.

Angling back, I put her entire weight on me, and pumped straight and up into her. The first few made her almost giggle. But the next made her hold me tight, and bark, "Oh God!" She thought she 'felt it' before ... but now ... she felt me 'ram-thrust' straight up into her, and into the air.

Her left leg kicked one time, and then the right another. If it wasn't for her being atop of my thighs, my legs bent, and my arched back, she would have slipped off of me. Now it wasacutal 'discomfort' for her, something she'd have to get used to over the coming months. But she also knew, for now ... I was at my very end.

Back in the kitchen, I realized I was faced straight towards the table. I was going to coat the magazine. I was going to coat the table top. And as much as it was 'fun,' even if not really 'my thing,' that one time I coated Dakota's spread, my wife wasn't going to appreciate me 'painting' Ms. Upton's cover when she went to read it. And 'just buying another copy' would still leave an unexplained reality of why our address wasn't on it, if I could even find one locally in the first place. No, I immediately turned my body, and faced 90 degrees from the table, along our large, country-style kitchen, with classic, real, hardwood floor that would be easy to 'clean up.'

It was then I paused, squeezing the end of my stem, just below my helmet, as if that would be the case if Kate's ass was in my palms, above me, my rod completely up her shaft, as my prostate convulsed out first sequence ejaculations. Oh, it burned as it clearly didn't coat my uretha enough with fluid, and violently spurted into the air. As I breathed out, I let out a howl, and could only imagine her saying, "Yes!" in full approval of my ejaculating deep inside her. And that's when I brought down my hand like on a pump action shotgun, with the trigger already pulled, so it unleashed its next shot the second I read the base.

My hips thrusted forward, and then only thing keeping Kate from flying off my thighs was the cupping of her buttocks. Now I pulled her back in, and then another slam. Ejaculations were flying into her on-queue, every nine-tenths of a second, on each half-cycle of my penis spearing into her, followed by the near withdrawl, only to return again. It was almost impossible to keep her elevated in the air, with myself bent, but upright, as I moved her up and down my stem, partially pumping, partially just 'holding on.'

Just like in the kitchen, I felt myself 'just go,' losing strength in my legs, and falling right onto my ass. But just like with Kate atop, I had already 'lowered' myself enough, it wasn't even a foot of a drop, and nothing violent enough to cause me to remove my hand from my cock, just like I could imagine Kate still impaled atop of me, on the ground. And now looking up at her, myself exhausted from the session being in my mid 30s (or actually mid 40s in the kitchen, but without her atop of me, of course), she clearly had to now 'take control' if the 'friction' was going to continue through my final ejaculations.

But as she put her left palm on my stomach, and reached back with her right arm to re-position, I saw her bounce once, and then again. Her face told me everything, the smile with the half-crooked, 'Why the fuck did I let you do that?' expression.

And she spoke, "Oh yeah ... um, no."

And as fully expected after that, an abrupt lift of her body off of me followed in seconds. Ny penis 'fell back' as it cleared her vulva lips, with a shockwave of several clumps of my semen pouring out and breaking apart as they fell back over it, my pelvis, and down my scrotum. I didn't get to view much more, because she dropped to her knees, straddling my legs, torso hovering over my pelvis, her womanhood now out-of-view.

Lifting the bottom of her white bikini top, she slid my cream coated penis into the confines of her bundled cleavage. And that's when she finally smiled again, "Damn I didn't think you'd stretch me so much after that the baby ... but you did." As the guilt poured over me, she continued, "I think only our wedding night felt more uncomfortable."

It wasn't just the penis, or its helmet, but the salty batter that was now all up and into her, stinging every corner it could ooze, seep and reach, that had been stretched, even torn in places. It was probably worse those first times with the condom, but that didn't have all the added batter. And to which, all I could say is, "I'm sorry."

Of course, she then grinned big, "Don't be!" She looked away for a second, and then returned with some added giggles, "It's nice to see you just take me how you wanted, instead of 'walking on eggshells' when you're inside of me."

I tried to respond, "I don't walk--"

"Yes you do!" she interruped, "or at least you used to!"

"I had to," I smiled back.

"Well, yeah," she nodded, "before this year, yeah." Kate then sighed, and shook her head, "Cindy tried to warn me ..." She left it open, but I knew exactly who she was talking about. That 'ex-friends with benefits' I used to 'bang' that was 'well used.' She was now with another player, and ... yeah ... she had been 'bantering' to Kate. "Damn you really can still 'ragdoll' a woman mid-air!" And Cindy was lighter than Kate.

"Well," Kate ran her arm up my stomach, her finger through my chest, "I guess we'll just have to 'exercise more' to 'stretch' out those final extras I still need." If I didn't know any better, she was rather 'giddy' at the thought of it. Apparntly she had been talking to Cindy ... a lot ... as of late.

Just then we both heard some noises, and there was no time to 'clean up.' We both pulled up our pants, and she hastily wiped away the semen that was in her cleavage with her hand. We headed towards my car, and on to the closest hotel. She hadn't had her orgasm, and I so wanted to rectify that 'inequality' as soon as possible. The rest would follow over the coming months ... when schedules, baby and everything else allowed.

And back in the kitchen, it was time to clean up. Although I let the cumstains across the hardwood set for awhile, as I enjoyed looking at my 'handiwork' for the next 15 minutes. That and I was still 'oogling' Kate's pictures in the magazine, still losing myself in my little 'post-preg wife fantasy' too, post-orgasm. I used to be good for a quartet of --- 4 -- 4 full, long, cumshot blasts, but into my 30s it seemed to be usually only 3, and sometimes into my 40s, only 2. I was just happy to see 3, with a semi-spurt 4th in there. Damn I had really dropped into the fantasy of Kate Upton like I had never before.

And it wouldn't be the last, as I went again to her this morning too ... although not quite 'as involved' as before.