Chapter 3
Horace started playing with his cock. Delia could see him stroking it in the moonlight, from the comer of her eye. She also noticed that he was staring intently at her naked body. His breath came in low grunts.
She had thought at first that he was trying to get his cock hard so he could fuck her. But his cock was already hard, and there he sat, just masturbating and staring. It took her awhile to figure him out, and when she did, am impulsive giggle bubbled out of her throat. Horace Hay-den was getting his kick drinking in the vision of her moon-silvered body through his eyes, and jerking himself off in whatever fantasy burned inside his perverse brain.
"If you knew how ridiculous you look, you'd stop that," she said. "You really must be some kind of kook."
"You're so gorgeous, Delia! God, you're beautiful!" He spoke between short gaspy grunts, his bugged eyes glued to her nude form. She imagined she could actually feel his hungry gaze on her flesh, as though his concentration sent tiny electric charges peppering her sensitive skin. She found the screwball situation rather fascinating. Her boss was turning out to be quite a character. He surprised her more and more by the minute.
Delia felt tempted to laugh out loud as she watched Horace pumping his prick. It appealed to her mischievous nature and delighted the erotic imp within her. A sense of intrigue grasped her. She decided to make the most of it.
For Horace Hayden's jaded benefit, she stretched her arms voluptuously, sighed wickedly, then started a slow sensual caressing of her own body. She heard him catch his breath.
"Oh Jesus! Oh sweet Jesus!"
Delia giggled. She extended her legs far as she could, pushed out her firm, tilted boobs and clasped her hands over them. She massaged her tits, squeezed them, and toyed with the pointed pink nipples. She felt them turn hard. She brushed the flat of her palms around and around and across her nipples, lightly ruffing them and teasing them. It was delicious, knowing that Horace was living on each movement she made. He looked hypnotized. He breathed jerkily and kept pumping his big prick. Delia felt giddy pleasure at the effect she was creating. It was nice to know she could make a man beat his own meat just watching her.
Changing positions, she sat up and scooted closer to him. She gathered her legs beneath her so she could face him. She commenced stroking his bug-eyed features with her perfumed hand. His eyes rolled. He sucked in a gush of air. He looked drowned in sensation. She softly laughed and leaned nearer. "You're pathetic, Horace, did you know that? Really pathetic."
"Oh God, Delia! Oh God, what you do to me!"
Her lips curled in a smile. "Do you always play with yourself when you're with a girl? Is that what it takes for you?"
He couldn't reply to her taunting, just kept his fist leaping up and down the shaft of his cock while she caressed his face. She ran her fingertips around the gaping circle of his parted lips. His tongue swiped at them. She pinched his tongue lightly, toyed with it a moment, then deserted it. He moaned at the loss.
"You look absolutely stupid, Horace. I never thought such a serious man like you could change and act like this. I'm disappointed in you, I really am."
"Keep doing what you're doing, Della! Oh God, I love it! Oh my God!"
His reaction delighted her. Even in the poor light, she saw how flushed he was. She captured his face in both hands, stroked him all over his burning cheeks and forehead. He shook in response. His grunts grew more passionate. His tongue kept slashing at her teasing fingers. She drifted her fingertips to his lips, brushed back and forth across them. His breath was hot. She studied his agonized features with contemptuous interest as she continued tormenting him. She found it all so amusing. She had lovely hands, she knew, and she kept them perfectly manicured and perfumed. Horace obviously found them fascinating. He kept trying to capture them in his mouth. His tongue whipped them at every chance with soft, moist licks. She loved the feel of it.
She eased one slim finger in his mouth. His lips closed about it and his moan was delirious. He began sucking her finger immediately, as though it were the most delicious morsel he'd ever tasted.
She worked the finger around and around his tongue. She toyed with it, made his tongue chase the finger. She giggled. She pulled her finger almost out of his mouth, felt his sucking efforts to keep it from escaping. She began pushing it in and out between his pursed lips sensually. He looked stoned on ecstasy. The sight fascinated her. It was amazing how enthralled he was, how much power a girl could render with one simple little finger, provided she had natural instincts of sexual prowess. And Delia had known she possessed the talent ever since her early teens. She hadn't had to be told. She simply knew it.
Smiling, she eased the finger tormentingly slowly from between his lips. His tongue followed it. He was whining. She teased his tongue farther and farther out by brushing it with fight strokes of her palm and fingertips. Horace's expression had turned agonized. Whimpering, he kept masturbating and mouthing her hand. She pressed her scented palm over his lips, felt his wet tongue squashing back against it
Laughing softly, Delia tried to wrap her fingers around the protruding tongue. It was too slippery. She coaxed it farther out. Horace's face was a mask of desire. The sight delighted her. He looked absolutely craven.
His eyes bulged horribly, his mouth stretched wide open, his tongue poked incredibly far out. He wanted her to be able to grasp it, she knew. He was silently screaming for more of her perverse play.
Suited her! She loved games like this. They were more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
"Farther, Horace . . . just a little farther . .
He strained. Their sordid efforts were out in the open now. She employed both hands, one working at his mouth, the other seeking grips on his slippery tongue. His saliva flowed gustily, soaking her fingers. She giggled constantly at his groans and gurgles. She found it all highly exciting, stimulating to her sense of deviltry, her pleasure in anything salacious.
She kept trying to get a good grip on his tongue, but it continued slipping away. Even between them she couldn't hold it. She finally settled for holding his chin in one hand and stroking his protruded tongue with the other. She ran her fingertips along his tongue inside his stretched mouth clear to his throat. He began gagging a little. She knew some men liked to be gagged. His mouth turned gushy. She found it pleasant playing with his tongue, watching his flushed face and realizing what she was doing to him.
After awhile she stopped amusing herself with his tongue. She pushed him away and leaned back, her head resting partially on the back of the cushioned seat. His hot eyes never deserted her for an instant. His hand steadily pumped his prick.
She lifted her leg and rested her naked foot on his shoulder. His head twisted immediately. He plastered her calf with loud smacky kisses. She smiled. She put the other foot on his opposite shoulder. He twisted and smothered this calf with kisses also.
She scooted farther down, hooked her knees over his big shoulders. His eyes stared at her bush, just inches from his face. He bent toward it. She put her palms against his forehead, held him from it He moaned horribly. She giggled and began grinding her pussy. His tongue slurped at her cunt but couldn't reach it. She brushed pussy hair across his mouth and seeking tongue. It drove him wild.
"Please, Delia-Oh God, please!"
She had to laugh. "Please what, Horace? What are you talking about?"
"Let me eat it! Let me eat it! Oh God--! "
"Eat what Horace? I don't understand."
"Your pussy! Your pussy!"
"But you've already eaten me once, Horace. You mean you want to eat me again? I don't believe you."
"I do, I do! Oh Jesus, I'm going crazy!"
"You want to eat my pussy while you're masturbating? Horace, I'm surprised at you! What on earth are you going to want next! You really are a kook. I'm amazed!"
"Can't help it can't help it! You drive me insane!"
"But I thought you were going to fuck me, Horace. That's what you said. Have you changed your mind or something? Don't you still want to fuck me?"
"Yes! Yes I do! But I've got to eat it again first! Don't torture me like this, Delia-for God's sake!"
He struggled anew to get his tongue in her taunting cunt but she held him off just enough to madden him. Her pussy was wet from her own excitement. She felt tempted to let him have it. That would spoil much of the fun, however. Instead, she allowed the tip of his tongue to catch fleeting tastes and once in awhile she gave him a good, juicy lick to further tantalize his jaded appetite, inspiring him to states of whining frustration. She laughed and giggled at his crazed antics. It was turning out to be a wild old time, the kind of fun she loved to indulge in.
Horace slurped and babbled, pleaded incoherently to eat pussy. Still she managed to restrain him. It became a war of the flesh between them, fraught with agony-pleasure, misery for him, fun for her. He was dying to eat her cunt while he masturbated and she found it delicious denying him. The car was filled with cries of lust and giddy laughter.
"You're going to make me cum doing me like this!" Horace blurted. "I can't stand it!"
"Oh, don't be silly," Delia chided. "You wouldn't-you couldn't, just wanting it and not getting it. That'd be stupid."
She cut off his reply by hunching her pussy against his mouth, giving him a few deep licks. His tongue swiped her clit and it felt marvelous. She rolled her eyes happily, gave him some more deep, long licks. Horace panted and moaned his ecstasy directly in her cunt, half his face buried between her swollen pussylips. She quivered. The sensation became fantastic and she began breathing short gasps. She decided, very abruptly, that she wanted to be fucked, even if it had to be by Horace Hayden. The playing around with him was okay, but now it was time for cock. She wanted a big hard prick tearing inside her. She didn't care whose prick it was, either, just so it could do the job.
She pushed at him, got her legs untangled from around his head. He let out a squeal of dismay. "Don't stop, Delia! Don't stop!"
"Come on," she demanded. "Let's fuck! Hurry, I'm burning up!" She clawed at him in her efforts to drag him up on her. "Hurry," she kept repeating. "Fuck me to death!"
"I'm cumming!" he wailed. "It's too late . .
"No!" Delia shouted. "Don't you dare! Turn loose your cock, stop jerking it, come up here and fuck me! Oh, Horace!"
He shrieked and orgasmed, still pumping his prick for all he was worth. Delia swore. "You bastard! You dirty bastard!"
She watched him pump himself dry. She felt horribly cheated, disgusted and angry.
"I-I'm sorry," Horace said, staring at her, lightly stroking his dying cock. "I couldn't hold it . . . "
"Bastard!"
She slapped him as hard as she could in the face. He made no effort to escape the next blow, just remained motionless. She slapped him again and again, loud, resounding smacks of her open palm against his cheeks.
"My God!" she spat contemptuously. "Don't tell me you like that, too!"
He didn't answer. His eyes were closed, his face flushed, and his expression had become beatific. Delia shook her head in disbelief.
"You creep-you do like it! I'll be damned . . . "
She slapped him some more. He flinched but didn't move. Her laugh was ironic. "Well," she said and sat back to think. "What are we going to do about this?"