Chapter 8
The whole thing about this was that Madge Fryburg wasn't a whore. I don't think that even Dad himself would have called her that in spite of her somewhat brazen and certainly startling offer. Suddenly I got the hunch that she was a pretty lonely little bitch who had been through hell ever since her parents' death, had worked her ass off to make a little money so that, probably being independent just like me, she wouldn't have to live off her inheritance and could feel useful. And here I, Carl Venturi, blundering oaf that I was, had given her hell because I had thought she hadn't been looking after Dad with all his hemorrhaging and had cursed at her and whaled the hell out of her poor backside. Her gorgeous backside, I mean to say.
And now she was standing facing me, and she was absolutely mouthwatering. Those sweet titties of hers were warm and jouncy, and they had a certain pendant contour to them along with a conical shape. The aureolae were wide and narrow, a sort of dusky coral which went marvelously with that tawny-sheened skin of hers, and her nipples were extremely exciting, swollen and tumescent, and they seemed to be trembling as her bubbies rose and fell with her quickened breathing. She had asked me a question, did I want to screw her. I think she could see the answer right then and there as I got up from the couch. My prick was resolutely tilted in her direction.
"What do you think?" I muttered as I walked over to her and put my hand on her gorgeous rump and felt the cheeks still warm and tingling from where I had laid on with a vengeance. She moaned a little, and she set her teeth in my shoulder, so that I could feel them through my shirt and undershirt. My fingers tightened on those juicy nether globes of hers, and I rubbed my prick back and forth slowly against the hairy thatch of her lovecurls. She was a perfect height. She wasn't drooping, but she stood erect in all her five feet seven, and I just had to lean a little bit and I could smell the nice clean fragrance of her scalp and her hair. She didn't wear any spicy perfumes, and she didn't need to. With a body like that, her bare flesh was stimulant enough to make even a jaded prick come to life, and mine wasn't jaded, not by a long shot.
"I hope I didn't ask for more than I bargained for," she whispered in a husky little voice in my ear, and then she set her teeth against the earlobe and lightly nibbled. My ringers were exploring the delightful contours of her nether hemispheres. I was working my way towards the furrow, and I had a forefinger running lightly into that intimate and narrow and ever-so-satiny cleft, and she was shivering, and then her arms went around me and she hugged me hard until her titties flattened against my chest.
"Let's go to bed," she muttered, "I'm getting sort of shy now, and I know you don't want that. I've been an awful naughty girl, and I guess I deserved that spanking, but I didn't figure I'd get it so early in the game. You're a great big handsome brute, Carl Venturi, and I'm going to hate myself in the morning, but right now I need it awful bad. Please hurry!"
I stooped and lifted her up in my arms, and she was a nice big girl but not too hefty. I stared down at her belly and the soft curls of her cunt, and those damn white shoes. She saw where I was looking, and she giggled and kicked off the shoes, then she murmured, "I don't like those stockings, either, but I'm afraid it's regulation. You know, I've often thought it might help a patient's morale if a nurse with good legs wore real sheer and maybe black nylons and looked sexy."
"That's true," I murmured, as I strode down the hallway towards her bedroom, "but on the other hand, you might give the poor guy a relapse. You almost gave me a heart attack when you started to undress, you know."
"That's fine. You deserve a little suffering for what you caused me. OOOHH! Darling, that's awfully nice! Please hurry and find the bed before I just go stark staring raving mad in your arms and get thoroughly ashamed of myself," she suddenly panted, and she started to wriggle in my grasp. The reason was that I had bent my head and put my lips to the soft, silky curls of her cunt and nuzzled the delicate, twitching lips beneath the fur, and given her vulva a long and passionate kiss.
I don't know why it is, but whenever a man does that to a girl who has been awfully aloof and snotty, she always begins to melt. I wouldn't say it's a sign of Lesbianism, but I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed her reaction.
I found her bed. It was low and wide and most accommodating. I put her down gently, then I pulled off the white stockings and flung them into a corner. Then I undressed and joined her. By now my prick was bursting. Her eyes were very wide as she saw the trouble she had stirred up, a veritable hornet's nest. It was going to bite and sting, and she knew it, but she spread her thighs like a brave little girl, and she reached out her arms to me. I sank down into that welcome embrace, and I knew I was back home in Fresno and this was the real homecoming I had always wanted.
Her bottom kept squirming the second my prick brushed through the tangled curls and found the petulant lips of her quim. Then she gave a little groaning sob as my prick pushed them aside and started to find the road to Paradise. She was tight, hot and humid, like Honolulu in August without trade winds, and she was just as beautiful and just as passionate and just as exotic.
I felt myself sink down to my entire length, till our hairs merged. Then she flung her legs over my bottom and really hugged me to her, tilting up her bottom and her pussy so she would take the deepest angle of penetration I had to give her. Her fingernails dug into my armpits, and our lips met and her tongue lashed against my gums. No, she wasn't a virgin, but she felt tight as one, I can tell you.
"Don't leave me after you've finished, because you've started something that's going to take a long time," she panted when I began to accelerate my thrusts. "Oh my God, dearest, oh darling, oh Carl, I want it now, darling, but I want another long, slow, delicious one before you leave. You hear me?"
"To hear is to obey, my beautiful one," I panted back, as I thrust myself to my very balls, and then I exploded. I hadn't meant to go off so soon, but I defy the greatest cocksmith in the world to enter Madge Fryburg's cunt and not give her everything he had saved up.
Her hips were squirmy and weaving all the time, and when she felt the lash of my gism, she uttered a wailing cry and pulled my head down to her titties and cupped my cheeks with her hands, and I understood she wanted me to suck and kiss her nipples, and I did.
Her body was jerking and trembling and throbbing under mine, and I felt she was at spasm-point herself. She came with a long-drawn sobbing gasp, and her head turned to one side and then her arms limply sprawled along the sheets, but her legs remained locked over her bottom as she seemed to arch herself up to gobble up the last drop of spunk. I could feel her cuntwalls kissing my embedded prick long after I had thought it was all over, and I felt the old gnawing ache that told me I had still plenty of life left.
"Oh, that was wonderful, Carl, but can you do it again right away, and nice and slow this time, darling?" she breathed. She was starry-eyed, and her nostrils were shrinking and flaring, and there was a wonderful glow to that sweet face, and how I had ever thought it hard and aloof I'll never know. It just goes to show you, if you get to the seat of the trouble in time, you can make everything all right in the end.
"If you're game, so am I," I murmured. "I just wanted to get my second wind. Besides, I wanted her to perform the necessary ablutions. But she had other ideas. She caught my cheeks between her palms, pulled my face very close to hers, and whispered in my ear, "Let me have my way just this once, because you've had yours. I'm just in such a lovey-dovey mood now, it would be a shame to break apart and spoil it. Maybe it won't be so much fun for you, but it will thrill me a lot. Please fuck me again, and do it nice and slow, darling."
I was still hard, it was true. So accommodatingly, I drew myself back to the brink of her cunt and then went slowly back home to the roots, and I could feel the moisture I had created in that narrow tract of hers. She began to weave her bottom again, and this time she shifted her bare legs and hooked them over the small of my back, arching up her cunt and bottom to me as if I owned them. Then she flung her arms out in cross, tilted back her head and breathed, "Nice and slow and gentle, darling. I want to die from it. I just want to float off into space. You owe me that much, seeing as how you've practically ruined my vacation. I was going to ride horseback, I'll have you know, and you don't think I can do that very well now, do you?"
"I'll give you a better ride," I promised. And I kept my word.
After I had established a slow, rhythmic in-and-out, I began to discover that the moisture of her quim wasn't quite so fastidiously annoying to me as I had thought it would be. And for Madge Fryburg, it was sheer rapture, if I was any judge of the convulsive jerkings of her legs, which locked around me and seemed to increase their muscular hold with each new thrust. Her head began to turn restlessly from side to side, her thick lashes fluttering, her nostrils dilating and shrinking, as I went in and out of the wet, sweet cunt of hers. And strangely enough, I began to feel a kind of building torture in my balls, as if I hadn't fucked at all. I got really excited then, and began to quicken my pace, but she tried to slow me down by shaking her head and begging me, "Oh no-please, dearest, do it the way I want. Just this once, nice and slow, don't hurry, we've got all night."
That was true. I wasn't yet a working man, because I'd have to go to the funeral and start checking with Charlie Karogian as to the exact condition of the estate I had taken over.
She had the most muscular legs of any girl I have ever fucked, bar none. She seemed to control me, too. Each time I had reached the brink of her twitching slit, she would sort of stiffen, and then her crossed calves would flex and press my back down and I knew she wanted me to dig in deep to my balls, and I did.
I felt it building in me, and I felt her getting squirmier by the moment. Little whimpering gasps and sobs, inarticulate moans and little cries began to exude from her lips. Her eyes were glassy and staring, and very wide; they were looking up at the ceiling, but she wasn't bored like a gumchewing whore, I could promise you that. All of her body was racked and tensely awaiting the liberation of her tensions. And I suddenly felt her thigh muscles surge and take a tighter hold over me. I felt myself suddenly drawn over the edge of the precipice. I shot it out, and I exploded again, and it felt to me as if I'd had even more saved up than the first time, which was nonsense and not at all scientific. But the point was that she drained me like a succubus, and I felt everything go back with a nice sweet lassitude.
I don't know how long it was before either of us spoke. We just lay there reveling in the pulsations of merged prick and cunt. This was the ultimate fruition of life. Even if I had been trying to give Marcantonio a posthumous grandson, I couldn't have fucked Madge Fryburg any more lovingly than I had.