Chapter 1
Another night and Bob was alone. Color television, a drink in his hand, and the acute pangs of sexual frustration. What more could a man ask for, he mused.
Three months and no sex. A new job, good pay, lots of groovy chicks working around him-but here he was-a dinosaur's hard-on, and no one to give it to.
"Shit!" he cursed aloud, feeling the growing stiffness between his thighs. I need something new, he thought. Eight hours a day of looking up those broads' dresses can make a guy pretty horny, especially during the coffee breaks when they sit outside my office, laughing and bullshitting, exposing all that good gam.
You'd think that just once, one of them would come into my office and say, "Hi Bob! How about a pussy break?"
I'd settle for a little sit-on-the-lap, he thought, his desperation steadily building. I'd settle for a quick blow job, a hand job ... even a quick hand job.
"Shit!" he cursed again, the fuck now spurting from his cock. "They're all a bunch of fuckin' pigs!" He watched the ebbing remains dribble down his hand onto the floor. "But I need them, I need them," he cried, rolling over on his stomach and pounding his pillow with his fists.
Finally, he got up and walked into his bathroom, picked up his washcloth, generously wet it and soaped it, and commenced washing off the sperm.
Finishing the "bird bath," he strode nudely back to his bed, lit a cigarette and lay back-his tension temporarily satiated.
"What I need is a new approach," he said to himself, more or less talking to the walls, because that's all there was to listen to him.
"What you need is a new approach," Janis said as they lay back catching their breath.
Janis was the new girl in his life. He had met her in a small cafe off Sheridan Square in the Village. Janis was small, five feet and three inches in her stocking feet. Her hair was brown and silky and hung down past her shoulders. Her lips were full and her breasts were set high and tipped with luscious pink nipples, each of which were set in the center of matching pink bosses.
Her belly was young and firm. And Bob loved the way it seemed to disappear into the thicket of her pubic bush.
He rubbed her belly gently, glorifying in the heat which seemed to engulf her completely. Then he slid his hand further down, momentarily playing with the still-moist lips of her cunt. Lazily, he caressed the inner softness of her thighs.
"I'm serious, Bob," Janis said. She picked up where she had begun. "If I hadn't been so bold, there's no telling how long it would have taken you to get my pussy. You may not have gotten it at all."
Bob looked at her, and she continued.
"You're an attractive guy and all that, but you've got no 'come . ' "
Bob strained. "Exactly what do you mean by that?"
"What I'm saying is that although you saw me digging on you, you made no advance, no smile, no wink. You didn't really do anything to give me the impression you were really interested except that you kept turning to see if I was still looking at you."
"Then why did you come to me?"
"I guess I was just too horny."
"Well, unless you're a damn good actress, you don't seem too disappointed."
"I'm not disappointed at all, darling," she smiled, moving closer to him and sucking at his upper Up.
She went on to tell, Bob that although he was hell on the sheets, he wasn't too hip on his feet. But what the fuck did Bob care at the time? He had gotten his dick wet, hadn't he?
Bob wasn't really a handsome guy, but he had a nicely built body. He was just an inch short of being six feet tall, his shoulders were broad, and you could almost see the muscles rippling beneath his tight shirts. His thighs were strong and he seemed to move with a strong sense of male sensuality. Or at least Janis thought so.
And now, seeing him in the nude, she noticed a trickle of hair that started from the top of his crotch and ran straight up his stomach and chest between his pectorals, then spread out on both sides, giving one the impression of looking at a capital "T."
He reached up to fondle her breasts, squeezing and kneading one and then the other. With tenderness, he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked it.
"I'm trying to talk to you, Bob," Janis said, gasping slightly as he sucked her flesh into his mouth, flicking his tongue repeatedly across the tip of her hardening bud. Then he released her.
"I know!" He recaptured the nipple.
"But I can't maintain my train of thought while you're doing that," she gasped.
He sucked her more greedily. One hand held the fluid opulence, and the other rubbed her crotch. She was warming to his touch. He slipped one finger past the lingering sweetness of her inner lips and felt the muscles of her vagina clasp around it and draw it further up in her.
Her hips rolled heatedly from side to side, and he inserted another finger, pushing the both of them deeper into her sticky goodness.
She moaned and arched her back. Beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead like tiny jewels. Her eyes closed, and her breath came in gasps. Her head rolled from side to side.
Beautiful, Bob said to himself as he watched her. Absolutely beautiful. He was digging on the rhythmic movements of her body. Except for the slight movement of her thighs, every other part of her was still-while her hips rolled, undulating her cunt over his fingers.
Bending blades of grass, an autumn breeze and leaves, waves upon waves of an oncoming tide-that was the way she seemed to move her pussy. And somehow, Bob felt moved, moved to the point where he felt compelled to seek out the source of her sensuality.
He kissed the valley between her breasts. He kissed her nipples, and licked the under softness of each tit. Then, with all the tenderness he possessed, he began to kiss and lick his way down her body.
He thought, birds fly south, and so do I!
Down he went, over the gentle swell of her belly, stopping at her navel which was sunk deep in her stomach. With deliberate pause, he stuck out his tongue and slowly pointed the tip of it into the sweet dimple of her belly.
Janis froze. And he touched it.
Her breathing had all but stopped with this gesture. Bob felt her tension building and with all the finesse at his command. He continued to construct the excitement he felt within her.
He removed his fingers from the sopping wetness of her pussy as his tongue repeatedly dipped into her navel. With the ease of a professional stud, he licked his way from her navel to the top of her bush.
The sweet smell of her cunt was strong in his nostrils. Her mouth was open, with a gasp on the verge of escaping as she felt him slip between her thighs. She sucked in deeply, and the lips of her cunt quivered passionately. Her pussy was steaming and he licked the wetness out of her, drinking heavily of the pungent sweetness.
"Ahhh!" Janis sighed, throwing her arms abandonedly behind her head and writhing in complete enjoyment.
Her legs were spread wide and the inner softness of her thighs trembled in the quickening of her lust.
"Suck it baby, suck it!" she cooed. "Eat me good."
Making his tongue very flat and broad, Bob licked the oozing flow, letting it cover the entire surface of her quim. Then he rolled his tongue across her clitoris. Her back arched sharply and Bob could have sworn that no other part of her body was touching the sheets except her heels and shoulders.
Her hands clawed frantically at the air, as if striving to capture the raw lust and sensuality that filled her being. Again, Bob licked her hungry hole, and deep inside her belly she felt herself coming.
Come, come, come, Bob thought. Everything is come. Look, look, look, look at the come run. Run, run, run. Look at the come run from Janis' pussy.
He licked the insides of her as deeply as he could. His tongue was getting sore, his jaws were beginning to cramp up, and the pain was beginning to shoot down the sides of his neck.
But he wanted her cunt badly. Somehow he knew that he could or would never see her again after that night. He couldn't figure out why he felt like that but somehow he did. And the fear of losing that sweet box, and not knowing where he was going to put his dick on the morrow, inspired the moments for all they were worth.
Janis was blowing her mind.
"Holy Hannah. Holy shit. Eat my hole, eat it up, eat it!"
She raved on as Bob continued to eat her But she was fast approaching the point where she just couldn't stand anymore. She grabbed him by both his ears and the rest of his face-from the top of his nose to the bottom of his chin and shoved it deep into her busy box.
She clamped her thighs tight against his head and ground herself hard into his mouth. Then she added an up and down motion, literally washing his face with her twat, smearing cunt juice form the bridge of his nose to as far back as his ears.
Janis could feel herself coming. But she wasn't getting enough pressure to bring down the flood of come which begged to be released. She could almost feel her stomach swelling with the build-up of her passion.
Finally, the muscles in her ass locked and clenched in spasmatic rhythms. Her face was flushed, a passionate deep pink, as Bob would have described it.
She then quickly moved her hands from almost tearing Bob's ears off to locking them round his head. She drew her knees up, almost to her stomach, then threw her legs wide apart thrashing her pussy against his face as hard as she could.
Her body stiffened and she climaxed beautifully. She burst her grapes, drenching the inner succulence of her cunt with her womanly flow. The walls of her vagina contracted hard as if trying to clasp at the shortness of Bob's tongue, and she continued to cream in the throes of her orgasm.
Bob's head was reeling dizzily as he continued to slip and slide, lick and lap at the sopping pussy.
In the back of his mind he was screaming, nut up bitch! Get your rocks, your lumps. Crumble your cookies right here. Right here in my mouth.
And Janis did.
Her hips twitched in short jerking motions as the waves of passion gradually subsided. And slowly but surely she began to ease the pressure of her cunt against his mouth.
His lips were cracked in the corners and bleeding a little. Come was stuck in the hairs of his nose and a lot of it was still clinging around his lips. His jaws were sore and the muscles in his neck were killing him. And one can imagine his dismay at realizing he had physically torn the little ligament underneath his tongue.
He knew that he would find it difficult to talk. Not that he had anything so important to say. But if the pain was this bad when all he was trying to do at the moment was swallow, what the hell would be like if he had something to say? He wondered.
In any case, Bob concluded it would be wise to just keep his fucking mouth shut. And save what little tongue he had left. With a little luck and very little exercise, his mouth might heal in a couple of days. And maybe, if his luck held out just a little bit more, the muscles in his neck would return to normal.
Right now, they felt like two pieces of rope tied on each side of his ears and strung around the top of his head.
"Yep," he thought. This acute fixation for pussy sucking is quite satisfied. At least for tonight. But it's satisfied, and his dick was still hard. Even with the pain he felt in his head and face and mouth, the night was not yet complete without his rocks getting off.
He lay back, satisfied with his performance, and said; "Okay, girlie, do me!"
"Okay, pussy-face," Janis replied with a smile, momentarily satisfied herself.
Gently she slid her hand down Bob's body and grasped the throbbing cock "Wow!" Bob thought. There is nothing, absolutely nothing quite as exquisite as the feel of a woman's soft hand on one's cock.
Janis was stroking the stiff erection with thorough strokes. Slowly, but so slowly she massaged it. The very fact that her hand was filled with this throbbing, pulsating piece of man flesh thrilled her.
"It's beautiful," she said, heading down to kiss the tip of the head. Then she began to lick the underside around the base, barely touching the sac which contained the two fascinating balls which were now hung, or to be more exat, hugged tightly together. Tensed. Waiting for the climax that was sure to come.
Hotly, she laved the length of the prick. Taking long, heavy licks; reminding Bob of someone licking a delicious ice-cream cone. Back and forth, up and down, teasing Bob as she went. She filled him with sensation. Creating wave after wave of stimulating lustful pleasure, she licked him. And Bob was dying.
The muscles in his thighs and stomach were pulled tightly together. His prick was hot. So terribly hot and stiff and hungry.
It wanted to be enclosed, engulfed, to be housed within the confines of a wet twat.
A wet twat, Bob thought. Nothing in this world like it. Well, who in the hell ever heard of a "dry" twat. Mentally he bit his tongue even as the last syllable danced upon and then dove off the tip of his brain. Idiot! He cursed himself, remembering that he had once tried to dip his wick into a dry twat.
The thing felt like it had teeth on it! Nothing like going for a fuck and ending up with shark-bite!
"Ohhh," he moaned, feeling the tip of his tool slipping between the Janis's sweet lips. The muscles in his body pulled taut. He could feel the fibers of his brain pulling tighter and tighter.
Janis wasn't quite housing his cock completely because she wanted to keep herself from choking. But that which she did have was being sucked to the bone. That girl had gusto.
And when it came to cocksucking, Janis cared enough to give the very best.
Her lips clamped tightly around the shaft, creating a vacuum. She sucked hard, molding her tongue to the contours of the throbbing prick.
Bob "oooeed" and "ahhhed" in the quickening of his passion.
Just then, his cock slipped from her mouth with a resounding pop. Nothing was said, he simply slapped her on the ass and she rolled over onto her back. He hovered over her momentarily, then taking careful aim, he guided his weapon to the box her cherry came in.
Still juicy and wet, Bob thought, slipping easily into her.
Janis began winding her hips in wide horny circles, thrilling to sensations of being chocked full of man meat.
"Tear my pussy loose," she gasped. She was really getting hot now. Deep in the back of her box she was melting fast. Giving up brand new come, releasing the juices of her soul, and letting it cascade over the prick which now stuffed her completely.
But Bob didn't need any coaxing. He dug her word thing but he didn't need it. If it was at all possible, he was going to dig a whole new tunnel starting from her uterus up to her throat. He raised back on his knees, and taking both hands, he pushed her legs high into the air. Then, draping them over his shoulders, he settled himself into the saddle and readied up for the ride.
He began to move in short, hard strokes. This was called his "shoot the juice" move. And he continued darting his cock in and out of her, fucking her in much the same manner as a dog.
He was teasing her, taunting her, not really fulfilling the aching in her to be stuffed like she had been. She wanted to be plowed, to feel the furrows of her sweet hole being reamed from beginning to end, and all at the same time.
If a cup of cunt was all she had, then she wanted her cup to runneth over. If her cunt was as large as a railroad tunnel, then she wanted it stuffed with five miles of train. If only, she thought, if only I had an ocean of cunt. A universe of cunt. Wow!
It was easy for Bob to see her mind going. Her lips moved but no words came out. Only sighs and moans of passion. She wanted Bob to stop teasing her. Her cunt was not that big. All she possessed in the world was the little hot, creamy hole between her legs, and all she asked and wanted was to feel the seven-inch prick filling her the way she knew it could.
But Bob was still "shooting" it to her. Streaking in and out of her like a dream. One second there, the next second, gone!
The walls of her vagina squeezed tightly, grasping for something tangible. Janis ached for something solid, something real, but Bob just continued streaking and stroking. A drop of water for a woman dying of thirst. A smell of kerosene, when she wanted to burn like a fifty foot flame.
"Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck me, will you? Fuck ... ohhh yes. Do it, Bob ... do it!"
He did. He began to fuck her with his "shimmy," which consisted of literally trembling from the waist down each time he pulled away from her, and then giving her a long, strong stroke every time he took it home.
He could feel her fast approaching her orgasm, and he went into his "nut getter" which could generally be described as burying his bone in her to the hilt. Using the total length and breadth of his cock to full advantage and whipping it to her the way one would do any chick who (in cadence with the movements) moans, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
She screamed-lost in the complete throes of her orgasm, and surrendering herself with total abandonment.
She came.
The sudden feel of hot come dripping down his hand and oozing between his fingers made Bob aware that he had been jerking himself off while reminiscing.
"Hot rocks!" he spat, shaking his head in self disgust and disbelief that he could do such a thing as he had just done. "If I want some cunt, then I've GOT to come up with a new approach. A new approach," he repeated, "a fucking new approach.
Mona Friedman lay stretched across her bed, almost calmly playing with the outer labia of her cunt. She knew that she was not going to be able to go to sleep until she had given herself a good frigging. No doubt about it, she thought. My little pussy is burning up. She growled hotly and rubbed her hand furiously back and forth across her aching twat.
With all this cunt between my legs one would think I could turn over a good fuck at least once a week, she thought. Just look at it. The lips are all juicy and red. It's not only a beautiful piece of cunt, she thought as she dipped her fingers into her wetness, but it tastes good too. She stuck the fingers into her mouth.
She growled again, then jumped from the bed and went to her dresser. She took out her hand mirror, then returned to her previous position and spread her legs wide apart.
Just look at that. The lips are all juicy and red, and oozing. She moaned, thrilling to the sight of her hot wanton sex. The little quivering nubbin of clitoris looked the size of a giant cherry, and, unable to stand the added pleasure of looking into her gaping maw, she began to jab three fingers hotly in and out of her cunt.
She pressed her hips down hard around her hand. She was going to make it. She could feel it, and now, the piece de resistance. Her cunt was large enough, deep enough and just now, it was juicy enough for her to begin the gentle but deliberate probing of her thumb on her quivering quim, which meant she now had all five fingers inside her.
How beautiful, she thought. It had been more than a year ago when Mona realized that her hands were small and slim in contour. Not exceptionally small, and certainly not unattractive, but beautiful and indeed slim enough to slide completely into the slick tunnel of love between her legs.
Fleetingly the memory of something comical and ironic flittered through her mind. Hah! Everyone said I should be a dancer of an acrobat, simply because I have the ability to maneuver my body into more awkward positions than the average woman.
No one knew, not even I, that the same ability would allow me the utter climactic satisfaction of shoving my whole hand into my cunt and fucking myself with an arm. I even have a choice of where I want it from the front or the back, like doggy style.
All those other horny bitches have to FINGER-fuck themselves, but only I or the very few like me can ARM-FUCK themselves.
She was on her knees and elbows (doggie position) with her hand in her pussy up to the widest part. She began grinding, writhing, twisting her hips furiously. Her hand slipped in completely. She was in up to her wrist. And with her greatest efforts she could clamp her pussy over more than a quarter of an inch past her wrist.
It was too much. Her come broke, drenching the walls of her vagina. Inside her cunt, she clenched her hand into a fist, shuddered violently and gave up the ghost. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her hunger was not controllable.
Controllable-yes! But she climbed the peaks of orgasm and climaxed five more times, each time more violently than the last. Exhausted and completely satiated, spittal drooling from the corners of her mouth, she withdrew her hand.
She lay there, a glorious painting of pastel pussy. The shimmering sweat amplifying the fluid softness of her exhausted body.
A dripping portrait of uncanny lust.