Chapter 16
Jim stood in the darkness, breathing deeply for a few minutes.
It was just as well that Kitty was on a hair trigger, because he had his next load reserved for private pleasures, the pleasure of him and his wife. He went at once toward the house and, back inside, he poked about quietly. Most of the family was in the front room, where there was a roaring fire. The nights were cool on the desert.
Good. He didn't see Joyce in there and he hoped that she might be feeling as he felt at that moment. They'd hardly had a minute alone since their arrival and it was time that they each took-and passed-their final examination in free and unrestricted sexual pleasures.
He found her in the bedroom, seated at the dressing table, a flowing negligee draped over her body. She looked up as he came in and she was all peaches and cream, smelling of fresh soap and a touch of perfume. Her golden hair was still piled high on her head. She smiled.
"Hi. Just got out of the shower, feeling all clean and tingling and wondering where my man was. You must have felt my vibes."
Jim laughed. "I felt mine. That's why I came looking for you."
She laughed as he came over and knelt by her stool and her arms went quickly about his neck. "Oh, Jim, we're going to have such wonderful times...."
They said nothing more for the next half hour. Instead he lifted her and carried her to the bed, where he put her down as gently as though she were a fresh cake from the oven. Then he was leaning over her, plucking at the bow at her throat, parting the negligee and gazing into the almost virginal depths of her ripe body.
Yes, it was a ripe body, a body aching to be picked. Her hips ground slowly in a circle against the mattress and her breasts stood up, their nipples making their own peaks before he'd so much as touched them. Her belly sucked in and out, the navel bobbing like a cork and her breathing became unnatural, disjointed, heavy with the excitement of her anticipation.
"Jim," she breathed. "Please...."
He leaned down and kissed a nipple, scissoring the other between his fingers as he kissed her. She groaned and at once she was opening his shirt, half ripping it from him. Then she was clawing his belt, his zipper, jerking his pants down. His shoes clunked on the carpet and he was undressed in record time.
He got on the bed, sprawling over her on hands and knees and her hand went straight to his prick. She began to stroke him and in seconds he was up, hard as ever, wondering how he could do it all over again-but knowing for sure that he could.
And so they made love. She got him ready and he kissed her breasts, her belly, her navel and he freely dug his face into her thighs and crotch so that she was humming like a tuning fork when he was ready to enter her body.
He came down on her, his prick poking straight into her vagina, in to the hilt. They let themselves soak for a minute and then their rhythm took over. They flexed their muscles in beautiful unison for several minutes and at last they made a tight arch of their bodies, hanging them in the air above the mattress. Then the arch broke.
They came together, as one, in perfect unison, and at that moment Jim realized Joyce was the best of them all. Sure, he'd want to sample others from time to time, but when the games were over he'd always come back to number one-his number one girl.
Then Joyce was telling him the same thing. "Darling, you're the best for me and you always will be." She giggled as their final juices melted as one pool. "Of course, when we get stale we know that variety will add spice."
He cleared his throat. "Speaking of spice, why don't we get cleaned up and join the others?"
Joyce giggled into his shoulder ... and so they did.