Chapter 11
Carol and Oliver weren't even aware that the old woman had left the room. In a conspiring tone they had invited her to watch, thinking she would probably join them or come closer to watch.
As the minutes went by and neither of these projected alternatives occurred, they lost interest in the old woman, and rediscovered their bodies.
Having fucked rather frequently in the last 30 hours, Oliver was in no hurry to bang Carol. He wanted to stretch it, to tease and tantalize her until she was limp and urgent in her need. Carol, for her part, was enjoying this sensuous escapade.
They were well aware, both of them, of their mutual reactions, of their growing delight in touching, in bringing out a truly lustful response.
Carol stroked his hair, nuzzled in his ear, and traveled with her mouth down to his shoulders. For the most part Oliver played with her breasts, holding her huge tits in his hands, squeezing them, pulling at the nipples and stroking the curve of them from the nipple to deep in the cleavage.
It was different from the frenzied, anger-fucking of this afternoon. At this time he wasn't even hard yet. His cock had swollen a little with the stimulation of her touch, of her mouth moving over his warming body.
The sweet knowledge that they could take their time, and could touch hand and mouth to arms, face, body, cock, cunt, legs, back, hair, anywhere, kept them in a delightful state of sensual awareness.
Oliver groaned inwardly with the nibble of her moistened lips on his skin. Closing his eyes, he let his hands roam and pick at her as she provoked him. She moved her mouth down on his body a little, so that he had to curl to keep his hands on her.
Now she was moving her face across his chest using her nose as a tool of massage, with the quick tongue darting out to flick at his nipple, or to catch in the hairs on his chest and pull at them, gently.
Oliver stroked her back, and the back of her neck. Long strands of her hair were spreading across the bed and trailing across their bodies. Occasionally she tossed her head to get the hair from her face; the hair which stroked him lightly slipping from place to place.
It was beginning to be an obsession with her: to touch, to kiss as much of his body as she could. Now that she had begun, she wanted to know his body entirely. It would not be enough just to fuck.
Her next impulse was to lick his cock, to take the wrinkled tool into her mouth and provoke it to a larger size. But that would lead to fucking, to a pounding lust-satisfactory in itself, but this luxurious licking would stop.
The taste of his gradually emerging sweat was salty, of course, but now there was yet another taste. Did he use some kind of lotion? Had he developed a different tinge to his body because of the shower last night, or the fucking this morning?
It might be the taste of fucking to satiation. This , boy probably did not get this much ass in months. What a difference it must be to fuck this frequently and to be able to fuck at leisure! Except for forays into woods or chance times when their parents weren't at home, high school kids seemed to fuck in cars or surreptitiously in odd corners and at unexpected moments.
Now she could lick the hairy tops of his thighs, teasing herself with that slightly changed taste. Smiling a little to herself, she kept herself busy tasting this boy, nibbling at him, down past his bony knees, ignoring his thin, hard calves almost completely.
His long, thin feet were more interesting. The sole of his foot twitched and moved away as she tickled it with her mouth. He wriggled his toes as this tickle spread, and he attempted to move around still more to touch her.
He giggled, then lay flat, calmly on his back, letting her take his toes, one at a time, into her mouth to suck.
"Carol, that's insane. It feels completely insane." He giggled again. "Oh, stop it. No, don't ... I like the feeling. Um, yes, I like that feeling. Mmmmm, Carol, do you know what you're doing to me:
She was laughing, treating each toe like a tiny penis, sucking on it as she would work the head of his cock. Then she ran her tongue down the smoother underside. Even the pads of his feet, the ball of his foot was similar-it seemed almost more sensitive than the projecting part above it.
Suddenly she pulled her mouth away from his feet and tossed her head back. The hair tangled and spread, flew wildly around her head, and settled away from her face a bit. She straightened and tossed her head again. The hair flew out and for a moment seemed to be frozen in mid-air against the light.
Oliver was watching her strangely, and she noticed suddenly that his prick was huge, hard. Before she could realize what was happening, he had sprung up and grabbed her by both shoulders; pulling her on top of him, his mouth reached for her and his tongue probed her mouth.
Down she came on top of him hard, her tits hitting his chest first and the pressure at once crazily hurting and oddly exciting.
For a moment he stared at her as their mouths were joined and their bodies clashing. They stared at each other, wide-eyed with his tongue in her mouth. He locked his arms around her tightly holding her as though capturing her.
Then they rolled over, as if the impulse occurred to them at the same time. Lying on their sides, with Oliver's arms binding them, they kissed with mouths glued and held each other. Carol lifted a leg, placed it behind his ass, and brought her mound of venus against the base of his cock.
She rubbed him gently there, then more passionately, even harder. Her body felt suddenly achy and stunningly alive to all the small points of contact they made. When he pulled back, she was surprised; feeling blindly with that coated eye at the head of his cock, he brought his prick to the area of her cunt and pushed.
Her juices made her slick and, with pressure, his prick easily found its way into her pussy. As he entered, they both took in long gasps of air with mouths clenched, hissing.
Carol felt his tool smoothly sliding in and out of her, the walls of her vagina closing around him as he moved. It was going to be a matter of seconds before she came. There wasn't even enough time to warn him.
As she tightened, she tried to tell him what was happening, but the words came out garbled and unclear. Her raking fingernails on his back, and her clenching cunt must have told him.
He was breathing evenly, deeply, but moving his prick into her continuously. As she calmed, he kept the rhythm of his cock steady. She smiled, pushing herself close to him in delight.
Oliver had his eyes closed, listening to her whisper his name, over and over again. He felt as if he would like to fuck her again and again, but something told him this would be the last time. He wanted to savor this, to cherish this feeling of his traveling prick.
Her tits were smashed against him, the weight of them spread against his chest. The nipples were hard little dots into his own chest area. Her back, long and smooth, with the inverted ridge down the middle a deep hollow for his fingers, was a fine piece of sculpture to hold.
He was pumping into her harder now, determined to fuck as hard as he could and still hold back the impending orgasm. Part of him did not want to come yet, but the long tool demanded quick release.
Carol did not seem to be aware of him; she was not moving, or working with his increasing rhythm to aid him. Limp in his arms, she seemed closed into herself, inward.
Her words were soft, and continuous, but disjointed. She seemed lost to her own passion. That was all right. He was sufficiently content to fuck her, to let the ending come as it would.
He imagined her bright red lips, the lips of her cunt, sucking eagerly at his dick, bringing it inside. The hard obstruction that was her womb (though he didn't yet know that fact) seemed to be the need of her body to offer resistance to him; he thought of it as some kind of diametrical protection, so that he could not damage her heart, stomach, or other internal organs.
There! Again today Oliver felt the small hard sensation at the base of his cock. His load was about to spurt up from there into her pussy.
As his sperm sped out of him in the hot liquid, he heard her cry out; again, he tightened his hold on her.
Oliver woke suddenly, listening for a sound which would have brought him from sleep. He and Carol were tangled with themselves, naked on top of the bedcovers. Maybe the cold woke him. It was a chill morning, just after dawn.
The light was strangely gray. The smog must be heavy today. He untangled himself carefully, trying to avoid waking her.
As he left the bed she murmured something. He kissed her cheek and she smiled in her sleep.
It didn't take him long to dress. As he closed the outside door behind him, he thought of her as he'd last seen her. Then he put all these thoughts from his mind. Somehow he had to get down into the city again, and get home.
The visiting friends were again leaving town; Oliver had enjoyed the visit.