Chapter 5
Even before Warren Wilson put his mouth to her pussy, Stella was already wet.
He pressed his face against her fat crotch, burying it in her soft tufted bush and her infinitely softer pussy lips.
Her thick labia shone wetly and looked something like a pair of glimmering, blubbery nether lips peeping out of the beard of her black bush. Stella oohed and aahed when he put his lips to her pussy and covered it with kisses. Her thighs were warm and smooth as they pressed the sides of his face.
His lips kissed her pussy all over. His kisses sucked heat up into the pussy lips. He massaged her quivering labia with his tongue.
Stella's murmuring moans demonstrated her appreciation.
Sighing heavily, encouraging his efforts with wordless murmurs, her plump hands with their long polished scarlet nails caressed his hair, head, neck and shoulders.
Warren's head bobbed as he guided his tongue up and down her pussy. He traced out the folds and fissures of her pussy lips with his tongue tip.
He touched the tongue to the slit, where pussy lips joined. He ran his tongue up and down the slot, sliding it over pink, slippery membranes.
Heat and the pungent musk of female sexuality - her sexuality, triggered by lust for him - poured up from her pussy, wafting into his red face.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the perfume of her flesh. He pressed his parted lips against her pussy lips and put his tongue inside her.
Her legs were bent at the knees, thighs hugging his head. They covered his ears, reducing the volume of the sound that reached them.
Dripping membranes heaved and slid under his licking, sliding tongue. Her juices smeared on his face and aromatically clung to his flesh.
Her membranes heaved convulsively as his licking tongue slid over them, lapping up juices. He tasted her rich essential oils.
His penis was stiffly swollen, red, hot. It was pressed between his flesh and the rumpled sheets of the bed.
As he went down on Stella, he could not keep from jumping his hot cock against the mattress, just to give it some kind of ease from its awful stiffness.
Stella pressed her fleshy broad back against the headboard of the bed, dug her ankles into the mattress and braced herself.
She pushed back and forth, rocking and thrusting, working her pussy against his mouth. He put his tongue to her clitoris.
As she moved, her massive breasts bobbed so ildly that she crossed her arms over her chest to pin the massive globes of flesh into place.
His tongue applied its stimulating tip to her clitoris. The clitoris was a fat marble of flesh, swollen with lust, swimming in natural oil.
Pressing his tongue to the fleshy button, he polished it to a high gloss.
Stella rocked faster and harder, her breath coming in quick sobbing gasps.
His tongue triggered her orgasm.
As she came, she tightly pressed his head with her thighs, catching and holding it in a viselike grip, while her membranes trembled with ecstatic convulsions.
She stopped shaking. Her thighs relaxed, loosing the muscular tension of orgasm.
Warren Wilson lifted his red, shining face from her pussy flesh. Her bush was soaked with saliva, as were her quivering pussy lips.
Stella sat slumped back against the headboard, head tilted back, neck corded with muscles, eyes squeezed shut, heavy lashes fluttering.
She slightly opened those heavy-lidded eyes when Warren, getting on his knees, took hold of her ankles and pulled.
Slowly he pulled her down on the bed. Her sweating back made squeaking sounds against the headboard as Stella was drawn down on her back.
Warren was on his knees with the red rod of his swollen erection jutting out from his hips, bobbing and twitching.
Stella lay flat on her back now, heavy-lidded eyes glazed and smoldering. She opened her arms and legs for him as he stretched out on top of her.
Her voluptuous flesh buoyed him like a raft. One touch of her massive breasts assured him that these splendid mounds were a product of triumphant Nature, rather than a creation of the surgeon and silicone treatments.
Those melon-sized breasts were all authentically Stella. Their nipples stood out like thimbles of stiff pink flesh jutting from her breasts.
Warren put his mouth up to hers. He didn't think a bi-sexual like Stella would object to kissing a mouth which swam with the taste of her in it.
She could taste herself as her tongue rolled and squirmed against his. Their mouths were locked together, their tongues thrusting.
Soon he took his mouth from hers, to turn his oral attention to her splendid and splendidly abundant bosom.
He covered her upturned breasts with licking kisses. The creamy bosom flesh rippled and glowed under the frantic caresses of his tongue.
He pressed his kissing lips to a swollen nipple and sucked it up into his mouth, his lips clutching the base of it.
Holding the nipple prisoner between his lips, he whipped it with his tongue tip. He did the same thing to her other nipple.
Reaching under himself, he took hold of his erection and brought its head down between her pussy lips, pressing into her.
The swollen fleshy wedge of his rod pried open her quivering pussy lips, splitting and spreading them as his cock head entered her.
She was a mass of wet heat as he took hold of her broad womanly hips and sank his sizzling member deep into her.
Thrusting his hips forward, he entered her with one swift stroke.
It was good to have his swollen steaming penis surrounded by the slippery wet velvet of her membranes.
It was even better to take hold tightly of her hips and pump his swollen rod in and out of her, back and forth, frenziedly fucking her.
Stella gave as good as she got. She undulated her hips under him, pushing up her humid pussy to meet the down-driving strokes of his surging member.
Sweat streamed from the pores of his flesh and hers, oiling the pair of them, so that their flesh slapped and slid and caressingly clung together.
Each driving thrust of his hard cock increased the erotic heat boiling within it. He and Stella were a pair of single-minded sex machines.
He delayed as long as he could before coming. The orgasm he had given Stella by mouth had increased her sensitivity to pleasure.
He held back until she was twisting under him in the grip of her second orgasm.
He rammed his member deep into her, his cock head knocking at the mouth of her womb. This time he did not pull back, but stayed deep inside, penetrating.
His erection swelled against her quivering membranes. Masses of semen bubbled up from his cock, spurting into the silken sheath of her sex.
She hissed and gasped and gurgled with pleasure as the thick semen filled her to the brim, soaking into the steaming pussy membranes.
He shook and shuddered as he came. He gave a last groan as the final droplets oozed from his member, trickling into her pussy to add themselves to the quantity of come which seethed inside her pussy.
He stopped shaking then, some of the tension leaving his body, his cock still hard inside her. She oohed and aahed, gasping for breath.
Duty called - but he had to catch his breath and recover some of his strength, strength which he had spent prodigally for this steamy-sex bout!
Besides - his cock was still hard inside her, simmering in electric afterglow which seethed through him and made him twitch with pleasure.
While he rested, he might as well fill his mouth with some of her bountiful bosom ... he pressed his face down into her pillow-like mounds.
She moaned, put her hands on the back of his head, held it down against her breasts. He took a nipple between his lips and started sucking.
She moved under him, her pussy all slippery silk and steamy juices as she pressed herself to him, sliding her sex along his throbbing, still-stiff member ...
By the time that Warren Wilson was once more dressed, out of Stella's bed and embraces and back on the street, another hour had passed.
He was just getting rolling on his search. But Dana was already well into the steamy sex games played by Samantha and her friends.
Warren Wilson made some calls to the office to get the big picture. A mixed bag of news awaited him.
Fred Beedle had cooperated. The agents had the cache of tapes featuring Dana, all the tapes, including the master and all duplicates.
Warren Wilson gave instructions to hold Beedle until morning and then release him. He regretted having to get tough with Beedle, but he had to play hardball in this game. He would make sure that Beedle was amply repaid for his time and trouble, with a sack of cool, tax-free cash waiting for the producer when he was released tomorrow morning. So, those loose ends were tied up.
Dana was untied, at least for now. Her hands and legs were free, so she could properly serve Samantha and her guests.
Samantha was throwing an informal little get-together with some of her close friends and bed partners, in order to show off her latest teen lover.
The group was in the living room of Samantha's apartment. The room had been cleaned earlier in the evening, by Dana, under the instruction and watchful eye of Samantha.
Samantha had summoned a group of associates who shared her tastes and whose discretion could be relied on.
It was a handsome and exotic little collection of personalities and bodies gathered there, assembled in the living room.
There was Hal Hank Henrys, with his constant companion Joanie St. James. Congressman Ted Fitzgerald was accompanied by his latest flame, Sue Lynn Castle.
Samantha looked lusciously cool and elegant. She wore a simply styled, expensive black sheath dress, stockings and high heels.
Her ash-blonde hair was parted down the center of her scalp, its twin sides framing her sharply featured face, the tips of the hair level with her jaws.
The black dress, skin-tight, left her shoulders bare. They were smooth and softly golden with a light, sleek tan.
Her breasts were fitted into the shaped cups of the dress, with her nipples forming sharp points at the tips of her well formed breasts.
The dress fit tightly, but her perfect form could wear such a revealing garment without any worry about unsightly bumps or bulges - she had none.
The hem of the dress was down at her knees, but the dress was slit at the sides almost all the way up to her hips.
Sheer dark nylons sheathed her legs. Through the slitted skirt, she could be seen almost all the way, including the dark tops of the nylons with the garters pinned to them, the bands of the garters themselves were running in vertical frilly bands down her tawny hips and the black triangle of the silk bikini panties she wore over the garters for quick and easy removal.
Samantha occupied an armchair, where she lounged with her legs crossed, slitted skirt open at the sides to display so much of her charms.
Next to her was a thickly cushioned sofa. On it sat Hal Hank Henrys, known as Hal to his friends, known as one of the most brilliant political strategists of our time. His intimates knew him as a man with a voracious sexual appetite.
He was a Texan in his late forties. A brilliant brain had brought him from the desolate Panhandle to the East Coast's finest universities, first as student and eventually as professor of political theory.
His demographical analysis of a generation of voting trends and the dead-on accuracy of his predictions and projections of voting patterns in the most recent election, had caused the current administration to add him to their team.
He was a big man, 6'2", broad-shouldered, with a wide thick-featured face, a heavy body and a slow, easy way of speaking.
His hair was thick but cut short, so that it bristled from his cranium like wool. He had a hawk nose and thick lips.
Texan he was, but he wore not the casual dress of the Westerner, but the conservative, custom-tailored three-piece suit favored by the Eastern establishment.
Indeed, he now was part of the establishment, a power in Washington and thus in the world - but his powerful sexual appetites were powerfully unconventional.
In Joanie St. James, the Washington VIP had met his match in lust. They were two of a kind, he and she, two peas out of the same pod.
Joanie was a match for any man. Her hot body was itching to get it on - and she knew how to dish it out - and how to take it - in spades.