Chapter 7
Sid Duneray lay on the beach at Southampton-on-the-sea, letting the sun do a delicate broil on his skin.
He had naturally dark skin, and when the sun and ocean hit it, his skin went a golden-mahogany that did great things for him.
Sid was vain about his build and liked to parade in front of the beach pussycats on every occasion.
He wasn't a bad-looking guy, but in his mind he pictured himself the son of Hercules.
He got this fantasy of glory mostly from Vera, his mother, who thought the sun rose and set on her only son.
One of the nicest things that had happened to Sid was his friendship with Bert.
Sid admired Bert, whom he thought of as heavy in the brain department, and with lots of debonair charm.
Sid did much as he could to imitate many of Bert's beguiling qualities.
Stilly his jealousy was such that he had to snipe at Bert, trying often to shoot him down, especially if Bert was flying with the wenches.
The plan fact was that Sid had a heavy dose of malice, and just couldn't stand it if someone other than he had any dazzle.
Still, there were nice things about Sid, and Bert liked him in spite of his malicious streak. Bert liked his sense of humor, his athletic prowess, and his loyalty. Not the least, he did have a sexy mother, Vera!
Bert, recognizing that in this world few are perfect, took the good with the bad about Sid.
At this time of the day, the sun was just losing its power, so Sid, somewhat bored, decided to strut along to the beach and check out the pussy cats.
He thrust his head forward and walked chesty, like a big gun, for, after all, he was tackle on the school team. Then he spotted Mona Jones sitting up, looking at a small mirror to put on lipstick, and his heart skipped a beat.
Mona, he thought, was one of the fabulous sights of the whole county. He knew of her luxurious background and her ill-fated marriage to that money potentate.
More than that, it was the fact that, in his visits to Bert, it seemed to him that she vibrated sex at him.
And that baffled Sid, for he couldn't decipher if this sex impact just flowed from her presence, or whether she was percolating to something in him. He would give a lot to know.
As he looked at Mona, she looked at him, and he could swear that her eyes took a long, fierce look at his phallic bunch-up.
She then smiled, and motioned him over.
As a visitor at Bert's house, each time that he had seen Mona she was streaking off to do her thing-a party, a charity, a social, a play, an opera. But she knew him, of course, and he came up, thrusting out his chest to cover his nervousness. Under his cool, he was a mess of nerves.
"Nice to see you here, Sid," Mona said, and somehow, he thought, for the first time in his life, how ridiculous his name sounded, especially on the lips of Mona, who might be saying Your Grace or Prince or Baron. Sid! She just seemed too fucking blue-blooded to use such a plain name. I'll change it tomorrow to Lord Algernon, he thought desperately.
"Sit down, Sid. I have been literally bored out of my head reading this dull magazine."
It so happened that he could tell, from the cover, that the magazine had an article on her, tipping off her taste in fashion designers. Mona did have a big fashion clout in the country, and women were always fascinated by her taste.
She looked at Sid as he sprawled out and smiled.
Actually she would not ever have noticed a young man of eighteen like Sid, except that Bert, her stepson, had brought him repeatedly to the house and seemed to like him.
But Mona, for some quaint reason, thought Sid sexy. He was about six three, with a good chest, and a strong body that came from football.
She responded to his physique, not his personality, which struck her as provincial. But Mona, after all, was a woman of the world, and would have found practically any eighteen-year-old kid in Southampton! provincial.
"How do you happen to be here without Bert?"
"Well, we're not married, Mona."
She smiled. "You've been together so often, one might think you were."
"He's not my type," Sid said, and his eyes caressed her lovely tits. She had pear-shaped beauties, the kind to make a young man's mouth water. She was, in Sid's mind, flawlessly shaped, with superbly shaped buttocks, lovely white thighs and legs.
"What is your type?" she asked idly.
"I like a woman a bit older than me. I prefer a mature woman who has reached her potential, if you know what I mean. She's no longer scrawny, like a kid my age might be. And she's seasoned by, life, you know, worldly wise, one could say."
He then stared directly into her blue eyes. "Well, let me be really nervy. Someone like you, Mona. You're my ideal woman."
She smiled. It was a very flattering speech, and it astonished her. In fact, it even astonished Sid, but he felt inspired by her presence.
Instinctively, he sensed this could be a psychologically delicate moment. As if anything could happen, if the right words were spoken.
And he did perhaps speak them, because at this moment Mona was feeling quite horny. Arnold was over in Saudi Arabia, trying to bribe some sheik to buy FXP military planes. And while he, Mona theorized, was enjoying the favors of some local harem, she was trapped at home, somewhat fearful of doing a thing with the kids just now.
The heat of the sun for the last two hours had been baking her pussy and she, felt all sorts of powerful yearnings. She found herself looking at the passing males, at the cocks in bikinis, and getting tingles from them. She felt really hard up, and was wondering what steps to take to diminish her cravings when Sid appeared.
He was not quite her ideal of the perfect sex partner, but as a body he was not bad. He was built like a powerful stud, and at his size, he could have a healthy young cock. So, just on impulse, she decided to try him.
Her beautiful eyes looked straight at him, and her soft vibrant voice said, "I came out to the beach without my car, Sid: A friend dropped me off. I just don't want to hang on until she comes back. If you're planning to leave now, perhaps we could make it together."
And her eyes were steady on him.
That phrase and look just about blew his mind. When finally he got together, he stuttered. "Why, sure, I mean, yes, Mona. I'm ready to go off, anytime that you are."
Then he bit his lip, feeling very uncool. If he lost his cool, he thought desperately, he would flub the whole sex scene. He palpitated, he drooled, he felt definitely, then, that all his telepathic intakes had been right.
They would get into the car, and one way or another he would get to Mona's magnificent, world-famous cunt.
He wiped his lips, sure that the saliva was drooling, then stood. "Let's go, Mona. I'm ready."
He could not have made a better move, for Mona had actually been turned off a bit by his uncool behavior, but when he stood up, she found her face on the level of his cock, which had inflamed at the very idea of nailing Mona.
It was easy for her to see that Sid's cock had a devastating load of meat in his pants. She felt a stab of wet higher groin. That pushed her over.
She would take this yummy yokel and give his cock a great workout, give him the exquisite pleasure of mouthing Mona's cunt.
She gathered her things, while he gallantly helped, and they made tracks to his car.
While on the parkway, she turned to him. "I'll ask you quite directly, Sid. Do you like me?"
"You're the sexiest woman in the western world," he said reverently.
"I take it from that you would like to make love?"
He gulped. His cock strained so hard, it almost crawled out from behind the zipper.
She glanced down at the jumping thing smiled. "I seem to find evidence of the fact you are feeling somewhat erotic. In that case, I suggest a motel, since we can't chance either your home or mine."
Sid was jolted for two reasons. He hadn't dreamed that she would be that direct, and he loved that. But he hated the idea of a motel. Because Sid, in spite of the fact that his mother was well off, worth easily a million from the money left by her husband, Sid, for some inexplicable reason, loathed any expenditure of money. He was obsessionally stingy, hated to put up one thin dime if he could avoid it. It was some crazy psychological quirk that he had to fight to control.
And he fought courageously now, aware that he could, for a few measly bucks, lose one of the great sex prizes of the world.
I've gotta be mad, he groaned to himself, thinking about the pain of shelling out about twenty or thirty bucks for a motel room.
Mona of course could not even conceive what conflict had started in his soul, except that one obviously had.
"Perhaps you'd rather forget the whole thing?" she suggested sharply.
The fear of this practically blew his mind. "No, no. We're on our way. Right now."
So, he paused once to pick up two bottles of champagne, nothing less for Mona, and stopped at the Easy Sleep In, a motel discreetly off the main roads.
In spite of this, the motel seemed to be filled with illicit lovers, guys and girls of the county, deceiving their spouses with an afternoon carouse.
Sid opened the champagne and poured it. They drank one, then another, then a third glass.
By this time everything between them loosened, and the social gap disappeared, dissolved by alcohol, and there they were, Sid Duneray, a provincial lad of eighteen, with Mona Sutton Jones, one of the world-famous women, at least thirty-five, ready to begin a riotous bit of fun.
Mona, giddy with the champagne, gave him a kiss on the mouth, and he went absolutely ape with lust for her. He grabbed her bikini, pulled it down, and gaped with joy at the beauties of her tit, her flat tummy, her sweet-lipped pussy with its sparse brown maidenhairs.
"Oh, Mona," he croaked, "I could eat you alive."
"You can start eating, if you want to, honey. Just be sure you don't try to digest it."
He burst out laughing, and grabbed her tit in his mouth and began to suck at it fiercely, frenziedly. His hands were all over her, never stopping a moment.
He lay on the bed, and he instantly put his head between her thighs, stuck his tongue into her hot pussy, thinking finally he had found the promised land. She was pure honey, and he could taste the salt of the ocean mixed with the elixir of her pussy. His head was racked with joy as his tongue rioted in her cunt. He spread her pussy, to get into it deeper. And kept digging in, and when finally she lifted her ass, he spread her cheeks and tipped his tongue into her tail.
Every part of her seemed pure ecstasy for him. He had never been so turned on by a female. He didn't know whether it was the fame of Mona or the fact of her great body, but the reason didn't matter. It was just a fabulous and great fun thing for him. He just couldn't stop eating her.
His excitement seemed so intense, and the Action of his tongue so driving, that Mona's cunt went up to the big O, a great orgasm, and she grabbed his head, held it still while she exulted in the vibrations, the wave after wave of pleasure.
Then, without a moment's pause, she went down to his tights which he stupidly still kept on, and pulled them down to look for a moment at his mammoth cock. Then she put its head in her mouth, and let her tongue travel under and around it, paralyzing him with pleasure. She licked his balls, mouthed them tenderly, while he watched, hypnotized.
That great face, that celebrated face that peered from world magazines, with that sweet beautiful mouth, was now working over his cock and balls. What a mother-fucking world of pleasure it was after all, Sid told himself.
She sucked him, holding his balls, and he just went off, like that, his cream pouring out madly into her mouth, and she drank it all, in the supercool style that made her so famous.
When finally they came out of the daze of pleasure, she went to the champagne again.
"You've got a lively cock, honey."
He was limp with spent lust. "Well, Mona, if it's not lively at my age, when will it be?"
She grinned. "Nothing like a young stud to make a woman feel good."
He studied her. "What about Arnold? Is he big in the sack?"
She half shut her eyes, thinking it ridiculous to talk about Arnold to this boy. "Well, Arnold is a game lover. He's imaginative. He thinks up games."
Sid felt envious, and shut out from the private bedroom tricks of Mona and Arnold. He just wondered what on earth they did. He of course was mystified by Arnold, a big man, shrouded in intrigue, with a dazzling past.
"Maybe we ought to play games, too, Mona."
She shook her head. "Just do your thing. It's better that way. He does his thing because he has to."
"He's one amazing guy, Arnold is."
She smiled, thinking of her multi-talented husband, and some of his amazing achievements. She sipped more champagne, and looked then at Sid's young cock still full of fury.
She reached over, poured a little champagne on his prick, which made him jump a bit, then put it into her mouth.
"One way to enjoy a drink," she said.
His cock went up like a flag.
Then she spread her legs and told him to stick his gun in her, and fuck her till wrack and ruin.
"Give me everything your cock has. It's a real beauty," she said, staring at its heavy length. "Stuff me with it, fuck me till I yell bloody murder. Rip me apart."
He went into her cunt, stuffing his great cock all the way, sliding it in to the hilt. "Geronimo!" he yelled, and started to fuck.
He pounded her, grabbing the white cheeks of her ass, got her thighs up, and rammed his cock in. He bounced his balls against her. He pussy-whipped her, for he was in great physical shape.
Then suddenly she said, "Pull it out, and stick it up my ass."
"Wow," he said.
She faced around and sat on his cock. She wriggled on it, this way and that, and his hard, like a steel pipe, stayed up to pierce her ass. It went in like a dagger into its sheath.
As she went up and down on him, he grabbed her peerless tits and squeezed.
The muscles of her ass sucked at his cock, and before he knew it, his head flipped and his cock went off, gushing scads of cream into her shapely ass.
She loved the juices flowing into her, closed her ass muscles, and rubbed the front part of her pussy to bring on another big orgasm.
"It was beautiful," she said, slumping against his big body.
"There's no word for it, Mona," Sid said reverently.