Chapter 2
Christopher pulled up with his lower torso until just the very tip of his cock remained inside Yvonne's cunt.
He then paused and took a deep breath. Yvonne thought he was going to ease his cock into her again.
Wrong.
Christopher slammed down with his lower hips a second time, this time as hard as he possibly could.
Christopher Adamms slammed the entire length of his cock into the black girl's cunt in one fell swoop.
Yvonne Craig could hear her cunt making a loud wet farting noise as he violated her pussy violently.
The handsome sexologist and writer moaned as he felt the tip of his dick sink into the prostitute's tummy.
The farting sound from Yvonne Craig's poon-tang came from displaced gas and juice inside the passageway.
The Negro hooker could feel her eyes opening so wide that the whites were visible all the way around her irises.
The black-skinned streetwalker could feel a great pressure behind her eyes. They bulged. They bugged outward.
There was a frightening moment or two when Yvonne Craig thought her eyeballs would come popping out.
Right out of her head. Right out of their bone sockets. Obviously, her fears were completely unfounded.
In retrospect, the Negro prostitute realized that she was more stunned than injured by the penetration.
She realized that she had simply forgotten how quickly a stiff pecker could sink inside her poontang.
Yvonne Craig had forgotten that her cunt could go from completely empty to completely full with that kind of rapidity.
The black girl could feel the head of Christopher's cock smacking the mouth of her womb once again.
This time the Negro hooker could feel a massive and mammoth thunderbolt of pleasure with that contact.
The second Christopher Adamms' tool of masculinity touched her cervix she jerked with enjoyment.
Yvonne Craig could feel the lightning bolt of feminine sexual joy rushing from her pussy up her backbone.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could feel that pleasure rising and rising, getting ever-closer to her head.
The super-horny black girl could feel the pleasure getting up all the way to the base of her skull.
The passionate Negro girl could feel the pleasure pausing there-at the nape of her slender neck.
The ebony-skinned professional could feel the pleasure then repeating all the way back down her spine.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover felt the pleasure pulling up short-instead of exploding into her brain.
Only the pleasure of a feminine climax would explode into the gray matter of Yvonne Craig's brain.
The pretty neighborhood hooker could tell that Christopher Adamms was not going to have to fuck her for long to give her the ultimate pleasure of orgasm.
The only question in the black girl's mind at that moment was how many times Christopher would make her come.
The super-horny black girl was fairly sure that he was going to make her come more than once as he fucked.
The passionate Negro girl figured there was a chance Christopher was going to make her come more times than she could possibly count.
The ebony-skinned professional figured there was a chance that, by fucking her pussy, Christopher Adamms was going to teach her what multiple orgasms were all about.
The man began to fuck Yvonne Craig with a smooth steady motion. He used the entire length of his cock with each stroke.
Christopher Adamms always pulled his pecker almost all the way out of her pussy before slamming it back inside once again. She farted loudly for the first few strokes and then the farting stopped.
Her cunt began to make a funny sucking sound as he plowed her. Her pussy went: Squish-squash. Squish-squash. Squish-squash.
At first Christopher moved his tensed ass cheeks from side to side almost as much as he moved them up and down.
Christopher Adamms used the tip of his pecker to thoroughly explore the nooks and crannies of her inner cunt.
The avant-garde journalist was surprised to discover that Yvonne's pussy was delightfully tight.
The handsome and muscular sexologist could feel Yvonne inner cunt tightly gripping the shaft of his cock.
The blonde and blue-eyed writer could feel his dick getting tugged at the root each time he withdrew.
Christopher could feel the temperature of his come inside his scrotal sack steadily increasing. He could feel his semen approaching the boiling point.
Christopher Adamms rode Yvonne's pussy high as he fucked in and out, so that the top of his cock shaft would give maximum direct stimulation to the hooker's clit.
The avant-garde journalist used his cock shaft to make her clitoral foreskin slide back and forth across her little man in the boat. Yvonne Craig's clit felt more than ever like it was going to pop out of her gash.
Yvonne Craig draped her arms across Christopher's back and began to scratch at him with the tips of her long fingernails. She scratched up and down his back on either side of his backbone.
She then clutched at the muscles between his amazingly broad shoulder blades with the fleshy part of her fingertips.
Yvonne Craig still had her shapely gams wrapped tightly around Christopher Adamms' lower body, her hells on the small of his back.
In this manner the Negro hooker was clutching at her latest customer with all four of her limbs together.
Christopher loved the way her strong thighs felt against the sides of his hips. The avant-garde journalist started out fucking Yvonne Craig slowly and gently, which wasn't what he had told her he would do at all.
Still, Christopher did steadily increase the pressure and the tempo of his in and out fucking movements as he went along.
Yvonne could feel all of the muscles in her body tensing up on her involuntarily because of the acute nature of her pleasure.
Yvonne Craig could feel her pleasure rising a little bit closer to the saturation point with each of Christopher's thrusts.
Then all of her muscles tensed.
Her breathing all but stopped.
Her heart skipped a beat or two.
He rammed into her very hard.
She felt her inner cunt exploding!
"OHHHHHHHHH! YOU ARE MAKING ME COME, CHRISTOPHER, CHRISTOPHER, CHRISTOPHER! YOU'RE MAKING ME COME INSIDE MY CUNT, YOU ARE MAKING ME COME SO FUCKING HARD, YOU ARE MAKING ME COME SO MOTHERFUCKING HARD-SO MOTHERFUCKING HARD!" Yvonne screamed.
Her facial features were contorting.
Her face felt hot and flushed.
She tossed her head from side to side.
She bucked upward with her round hips.
Their loins were slapping hard together.
Their bodies were both wet with perspiration.
Yvonne Craig was shivering violently, looking for all the world as if she were attempting to shudder herself right out of her shiny black skin.
Her complexion was about as dark as a human being's complexion can get. There was very little cream in the coffee of Yvonne Craig's family tree, you see.
The pretty little Negro hooker could feel the pleasure of her orgasm shooting outward from her pussy.
She could feel the pleasure once again shooting up her spine toward the base of her round little skull.
But this time that pleasure did not stop at the base of her skull. The pleasure did not even pause there.
The beautiful black prostitute could feel the pleasure exploding into the gray matter of her brain.
The ebony-skinned streetwalker could feel the pleasure becoming more ecstatic than she would have thought possible.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her brain reeling with the intensity of her orgasmic pleasure.
The come was short and sharp. Christopher Adamms' latest lover's tiny toes were tightly curled under.
The super-horny professional fucker was clutching at Christopher Adamms with all four limbs more tightly than ever.
Christopher never stopped fucking, even when u the girl's orgasm was ripping through her, running up and down the entire length of her spine. Yvonne Craig was snapping upward with her femininely sloped loins each time he stabbed down with his big cock. Her movements were filled with the urgency of her libido.
The best thing about the orgasm, Yvonne Craig discovered, was that after it was through, it had done nothing to appease her fuck urge. Yvonne discovered that she wanted to have her pussy fucked even more after her come than she had before.
She was not appeased.
She was not satisfied.
Her deep-vaginal come had enhanced her horniness rather than stifled it. She knew that this was not the last of her orgasmic enjoyment. Yvonne Craig knew that there was a hell of a lot more pleasure where that came from.
There was no doubt in her mind that Christopher Adamms was going to make her come more than once with this fantastic beef injection he was giving her.
Christopher Adamms continued to steadily increase the tempo of his fucking movements. He was slick with sweat, the steamy perspiration of his sexual exertion.
The avant-garde journalist could feel Yvonne Craig's pussy sucking his cock, sucking his come right up out of his scrotal sack into the base of his pecker.
The handsome and muscular sexologist could feel a tickle of manly sexual anxiety forming at the base of his dick, on the underside of his cock shaft, right where Christopher's prick and balls came together.
The blonde and blue-eyed writer could tell that this tickle of sexual anxiety could do nothing but grow in intensity-as long as his massive tool was inside Yvonne Craig's wanton tunnel of professional lust.
Yvonne could feel her sense of time and space being altered by the intensity of her own pleasure.
Yvonne Craig was only vaguely aware of where she was by this time. Her sweat was soaking through the hotel bedspread, and no doubt through the sheets below as well.
It was summer.
It was hot.
Humid.
Sticky.
The pretty little Negro hooker could feel her sense of time being severely elongated by her pleasure.
Everything, every goddamn thing, felt so good that each second was stretched out into a full minute.
The beautiful black prostitute could feel each minute stretching into sixty minutes-a full-fledged hour.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover knew that her pleasure-and this blissful fuck-were going to seem like they were going on forever. The unexpectedly passionate neighborhood whore realized that this was one of the most intense sexual experiences she had ever had-and that was saying something for a girl who had been on the streets picking up men and having her pussy fucked fifteen or twenty times a day ever since she was thirteen.
The super-horny professional fucker felt as if she had been waiting for years and years on the sexual launching pad and now-at last-she had blasted off.
The intensely lustful neighborhood prostitute felt as if she were straddling the pointy nose-cone of a cigar-shaped rocket-ship. She felt as if she were rocketing toward the stratosphere, and still rising.
Yvonne felt as if she were headed for the depths of outer space. She felt as if she ere heading for other solar systems. She felt as if she were headed for other galaxies. She felt as if she were about to leave the universe.
Yvonne Craig felt as if she were headed for another universe-toward another dimension.
The pretty little Negro hooker felt as if she were headed for the fifth dimension, a place where time and space had ceased to exist.
The pretty little Negro hooker felt as if she were heading for a place, a place for sensates, where only sensation existed and only the intensity of sensation held any import. The second Yvonne Craig's first come was through she could feel her libido rapidly rising toward the saturation point for a second time.
The pretty little Negro hooker's pussy exploded again and she let another shrill cry of pleasure-like a feminine version of a Tarzan call.
The beautiful black prostitute was pleased to find that her second deep-vaginal come was even longer and more intense than her first had been, and that was saying something.
The ebony-skinned streetwalker could tell that her pleasure was continuing to mount. She was tossing her head from side to side as if she were purposefully attempting to injure her slender neck, as if she were saying "no" over and over again.
But Christopher Adamms was smart enough, and sexually experienced enough, to realize that the little girl was saying precisely the opposite with this wild tossing of her head.
She was saying yes.
Again she began to scream.
"YOU ARE MAKING ME COME! YOU ARE MAKING ME COME AGAIN! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW GOOD YOU ARE MAKING ME FEEL! I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HOT YOU ARE MAKING ME FEEL! IT'S UNBELIEVABLE! UNBELIEVABLE, CHRISTOPHER!"
Christopher Adamms could tell that the tickle of masculine sexual anxiety that was forming at the underside of the base of his cock was going to do nothing but grow. It was going to grow until it was no longer a tickle at all.
It was going to grow until it was a comet-like fireball of liquid anxiety. It would be then that Christopher would know his sexual arousal had reached the saturation point. Christopher Adamms then would know that his libido had reached the point of no return. The avant-garde journalist would then know that he had reached the point of orgasmic inevitability.
"MY SECOND COME, MY SECOND COME, MY SECOND COME, MY SECOND COME IS EVEN MORE INTENSE THAN MY FIRST!" she screamed.
Yvonne's back teeth were clenched together very tightly. She was grinding her rear molars away in this manner.
Yvonne Craig's back teeth were clenched together so tightly that the muscles at the sides of her face were protruding.
The pretty little Negro hooker's teeth were clenched so tightly that her jaw was beginning to ache.
The beautiful black prostitute hardly paid any attention, however, to the discomfort in her lower face.
The ebony-skinned streetwalker thought this slight discomfort in her lower jaw was all but insignificant, next to nothing, compared to the roaring pleasure she was experiencing down inside her Negro cunt.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel her inner lips being pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled, by the girth of Christopher's constantly working ram-rod of hard beef.
Their wet loins were slapping together hard, beating out the rhythm of the blissful hump. Christopher Adamms' latest lover could feel bolts of lightning going directly from her cunt into her brain. Her libido had taken control of her willpower.
She could see bright flashes of light on the insides of her tightly closed eyelids. Her eyelashes were crushed desperately against her high cheekbones. Her usually smooth forehead was deeply creased with the tension of her acute sexual pleasure.
The super-horny professional fucker could feel crinkles forming across the bridge of her nose as it pushed upward on her face. Her facial features looked as if they were trying to cluster at the center.
The intensely lustful neighborhood prostitute's lips were stretched back across her front teeth, so that her facial expression had contorted itself into a perfect cross between a smile and a grimace.
Not long after her second come was through, Yvonne exploded into her third come-and still she was not satisfied.
"FASTER!"
The prostitute stopped counting her comes after the third one. Numbers were no longer important to her. She was in the land of the sen-sates, and she felt as if she were going to stay there. Now more than ever only the intensity of her sensations mattered.
In retrospect, Yvonne Craig realized that she probably would not have been able to count all of her orgasms even if she had been in the mood to try.
Her comes were snapping off inside her loins at a frightening rate. There were snapping off closer and closer to one another-so that it was increasingly difficult for Yvonne Craig to tell them apart.
"HARDER!"
Christopher fucked harder.
Yvonne Craig could feel her comes running into one another so that the final convulsion of one come seemed to coincide with the initial spasm of the following come. Her orgasms were becoming all but indistinguishable in the reeling gray matter of her brain. She could feel the earth moving. She could feel the bombs bursting in air.
"FUCK ME FASTER! FUCK ME HARDER! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER! I CANNOT STOP COMING! OHHHHHHHH! OWWWWWWW!
OOOOOOOH! I CANNOT STOP COMING. YOU ARE MAKING ME CRAZY-YOU ARE MAKING ME CRAZY WITH PLEASURE!" Yvonne Craig screamed loudly.
The black girl felt more like she was having no continuous never-ending come, rather than a bunch of shorter orgasms all strung closely together, which happened to be the actual case.
The pretty little Negro hooker could tell that there was no way her pleasure was going to stop-there was no way her pleasure was going to stop mounting-until Christopher Adamms ended the blissful sex act with the spilling of his seed deep inside her tunnel of lust, way up inside her soft underbelly, well up past the mouth of her womb.
The beautiful black prostitute thought she was going to pass out from too much pleasure. Then she realized that she was being ridiculous. The ebony-skinned streetwalker realized that there was no such thing as too much pleasure.
The ebony-skinned streetwalker could tell that Christopher was not going to be able to fuck her for much longer. She could tell by the gurgling noises Christopher Adamms was making in his gullet that he was getting ready for the big finale, for his own ecstatic orgasm.
Christopher Adamms' latest lover could hear Christopher's sounds of pleasure steadily rising in pitch and volume.
She could hear him moaning and groaning with pleasure with each and every one of his rapid exhales.
The super-horny professional fucker could tell that his cries of joy were rising because of the tenseness in the muscles of his neck.
The intensely lustful neighborhood prostitute knew that those tensed muscles were squeezing at Christopher Adamms' voice box, thus altering the product of his ecstatic exclamations.
The avant-garde journalist could tell that he was not going to be able to fuck the black girl for much longer.
This was a great disappointment for Christopher Adamms. The handsome and muscular sexologist wanted the fuck to go on forever. The blonde and blue-eyed writer never wanted to leave this room. He knew that it wouldn't make any difference if he tried to distract his libido by thinning about other things. Christopher Adamms knew that he was going to come no matter how much time he tried thinking about baseball.
Sensing that the end was near, that they were in the homestretch of the fuck, Christopher shifted his hips into high gear.
Into overdrive.
He began to fuck Yvonne Craig as hard and fast as he could.
The sounds that her pussy was making were louder than before.
Squish-squash.
Squish-squash.
Squish-squash!
He fucked with everything he had. Christopher fucked with reckless abandon. He fucked her so hard and so fast that his ass cheeks really were a blur to the naked eye.
Then he rammed the entire length of his cock into her pussy-and this time he kept it inside there.
Yvonne Craig could feel his cock getting a little bit thicker than before as even more blood that previously pumped into the shaft of his pecker. Yvonne Craig would not have thought it possible unless she had felt it for herself. The pretty little Negro hooker could feel his cock getting a little bit longer-and a little bit harder. She could feel him becoming more urgently erect. With this additional growth, Yvonne Craig found that her inner cunt lips and the inner walls of her pussy had to stretch even more than before to accommodate the bulk of his tool.
Yvonne Craig could feel herself snapping off her final come of the fuck at precisely thaT moment.
It was her umpteenth come of the hump. She was thrilled to discover that her last one was her best one.
The black hooker could tell immediately that her final orgasm of the fuck was by far her longest and-most intense.
She knew why that as too.
It was because they were coming together.
They were orgasming simultaneously.
They were feeding off each other's pleasure.
All of the muscles in Christopher's body tensed. Christopher Adamms began to shiver. The avant-garde journalist arched his back and lifted his head in the air. The handsome and muscular sexologist could feel his own facial features contorting. Indeed, his handsome facial features contorted so severely with his bliss that he did not even look like himself very much anymore.
His face was hot.
His face was as red as a beet.
His come was boiling inside his scrotum. His silver seed swam anxiously around his swollen nuts, trying to get the hell out of there. His cock began to spasm. His piss hole opened until it was gaping.
His volcano erupted.
His molten lava flowed.
He filled her cunt with jism.
They sang together with their pleasure. Christopher Adamms and Yvonne Craig sang a duet in homage to the extraordinary pleasure they were sharing.
Yvonne Craig, being a bit of a romantic, thought there was only one come occurring in that hotel room.
Not hers.
Not his.
Theirs.
They were sharing its pleasure equally.
Then the moment of passion was through and Christopher collapsed on top of Yvonne Craig so that her tits were once again flattened against his chest.
They could both feel the absolute ecstasy of their combined orgasms fading into a new sensation. Yvonne Craig felt as if she and Christopher were sharing the same post-orgasmic afterglow.
They moaned.
Hugged tightly.