Chapter 4
King felt pretty good. As he lit the cigarette the match flickered revealing the deep smile lines in his face. He put the match out in his copper ashtray. He'd bought the ashtray in New Mexico. Fine state. Great contrast between desert, forest, mountains, plains, white men, red men and all that sort of stuff.
He'd even gone to a massage parlor there; a place with a touch of humor. Hornblower's Counseling Service they called it. The women in New Mexico were better than in Detroit, he decided with an nod of the head.
He'd called Jaccuri and said he had a fine piece for him. A girl looking to get a little ahead in the firm and willing to give a bit of behind to do it.
Jaccuri had been more then delighted that his sometime friend, King, called. He said he would recommend King for a raise and maybe a chance at a promotion to inner plant supervisor. That would mean getting a job being supervisor over two plants full of supervisors. That was thirty-five hundred a year more.
He had called Anita into the office to tell her and then had sent her home early to get ready. He gave her the address. Not a Grosse Pointe location, but still an exclusive area.
She rushed home, mixed feelings dancing in her belly. But still, the sheer idea of having a man, a firm cock to satisfy her, was enough. She knew who Jaccuri was and had wondered what it would be like to fuck for him. Well, tonight she'd find out.
She had a quick dinner, not too much. She was much too excited to eat more. She did her nails, her hair, then decided to get something else to eat, but was too excited to make anything, so she ran down to buy two slices of pizza; one plain and one with mushrooms. She found that after many years of eating pizza she was no longer satisfied with plain slices. It had to have something on top.
She returned home and decided to take a bath, put on her bath cap and stepped into the tub, using some of the bubblebath she had left from her birthday party last year. It had been given to her by Ethel, one of the neighbors she was friendly with in the building.
Anita didn't linger long in the tub, got out, dried off and went to do her lipstick, put on perfume, pink tight panties, a nice sweater, slacks. She wanted to look presentable; hot, sexy, but not trampy.
She had decided yesterday that she would screw, and Anita had started taking the pill. No use in having any accidents.
As soon as she was done dressing, she got her bag, locked up and left, taking the elevator downstairs and heading for the bus. Across town a very eager beau was expecting her, wondering how she'd be.
Wilton Jaccuri looked out the window of his three room bachelor apartment at the view of Detroit twenty-two stories down and then the view of the great city and suburbs beyond. Amid the heat haze, the smog, the dust in the air, his eyes took in details with the sharp concentration of a man possessed by details and in turn possessing them.
It was called Motor City and for good reason. A quarter of all American automobiles were produced in this area and more then two hundred thousand workers depended for their jobs on this industry. There were more then a million and one half people in Detroit; a city, which in land area occupied half the surface of New York City. More then two and a half million people lived in the suburbs. There was a half billion dollar riverfront Renaissance Center which contained living units, offices and hotels. He liked to go there sometimes. Not far away was a half billion dollar four-tenths of a square mile medical center. There was the Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village historical displays, if you liked that sort of thing and the Fort Wayne Military Museum. Detroit had been founded as a strategic fort way back in 1701 by a Frenchman named Cadillac, from whom we get our name Cadillac. There were a lot of explorers back in those days; De Soto, La Salle. It brought to mind cars no longer in existence. There are a lot of cars named after famous explorers. And the people who drove them and are still driving them don't even know it. Such is fame. It would probably make old Cadillac and the rest of those old buzzards turn over in their graves if they saw how their names were being bandied about these days, Jaccuri thought with a grin. He knew a lot about the area, being he was so involved in it and had so much free time on his hands.
Detroit was taken from the French by the British at the end of the French and Indian Wars and in 1796 was ceded to America. Later on, R.E. Olds' built the first auto factory for which Detroit became famous and Henry Ford helped things along. From a village of twenty five hundred when America took over, it had grown into something that always moved him each time he gazed at it.
Jaccuri was glad he lived on the twenty-second floor. High places moved him. He felt like an eagle in an eyrie; a cut in a vast rocky cliff, from which one could look down upon all of humanity. And there was certainly a lot to look down on.
He could see, in the far distance, the silver shimmer of Lake St. Clair and then running from it, in a southerly direction, the wide ribbon of the Detroit River, which emptied into and connected Lake Erie to her sister lakes. Across the Detroit River, almost indistinguishable from Detroit, was Windsor, Ontario. There were certain places there where he had gone to have himself a good time in some undefineable ways unlike Americans. Their women he found superior in many respects and though he paid for it, fine bed partners.
Between the two cities, and cutting the Detroit River into two temporary arms, one of which, on the US side, was called Scott Middle Ground, was the long, thick arrow of Belle Isle Park; a thousand acres of good fun on sunny afternoons or at night, a place to park in with one's girl, at some risk, but not so much if one kept doors locked. There were private places where one could enjoy one's self.
You went down East Berard Boulevard, then across Mac Arthur Bridge and you were there. You could visit the aquarium of the Dossin Great Lakes Museum; a place he found full of interesting and unique information. There was the Children's Zoo, which Jaccuri was too old for. And if one went south of the Great Lakes Museum along the Strand and looked across the river at Windsor he could see the looming form of the Ford Motor Company grounds in Canada.
Looking out the left window of his living room Jaccuri could see the north of Detroit, where Wayne County ended and Macomb County began. He could turn his head a bit to the northeast and see Lake St. Clair, then Grosse Pointe Park, Grosse Pointe, Grosse Pointe Shores, Grosse Pointe Woods; communities on or near the lake; places he did not yet have the bread to live in, or to be truthful, had the will to live in.
Looking in the opposite direction of some of the better neighborhoods he could see Detroit City Airport and just beyond it The Chrysler Corporation Plymouth Assembly plant. It was right next to the Forest Lawn Cemetery. This was something that always brought a smile to his lips. That was because autos put so many people in their graves each year. The symbolism of the two places side-by-side, may have been lost on many, but not on Jaccuri.
A bit farther south was the Chrysler Hamtramck Assembly Plant, a bit more down was the GM Main Division Cadillac Plant, then the huge, more then one square mile, Ford Motor Company River Rouge Plant. A decent chunk of land separated it from the GM plant and it was located in Dearborn and not in the River Rouge Community, which fronted on the Detroit River. It was just named after the narrow River Rouge,, which ran in front of it and down to the Detroit River.
Separated by a chunk of Dearborn on the west was another huge Ford plant and next to it Henry Ford Community College and the Dearborn Center of Michigan University. To the south of this section past the Rouge River, was the Henry Ford Museum, Greenfield Village and the Ford Proving Grounds. A bit farther south and west as his company's plant and grounds, almost touching Inkster City.
He always took the Edsel Ford Freeway south to where it became the Detroit Industrial Freeway, which then swung west and he got off somewhere along that line to get to his plant offices.
Wilton Jaccuri had a good job, one he should not by all rights have had. His life had been an unusual and hard one. Ruthless, to be frank. Sometimes he felt like a madman gone sane but still able to imagine the madnesses he had gone through and which had driven him to anxiety, sleepless nights, stomach cramps, deep depressions, with it's dual cycle of drowsiness, during which he had trouble keeping his eyes open no matter how many hours he slept, and anxiety, during which he could barely sit still and almost never enjoyed himself.
Despite his gruff interior and jovial pretensions there was a dark, and deep side to this man. He had not married, despite opportunities. His reasons were simple. He had his own nightmare, one he did not want any other human being to enter except women, for brief periods, and then only when he was able to hide his nightmare.
He put a Taryton to his lips, lit it, and stood there, smoking and watching the city play at his feet. Or was it really playing? That was just a word some novelist had used and it stuck. People didn't play. Most were working or sleeping and resting to recuperate from that work. Even in the places where people came to play the people entertaining them or dishing out the food they ate, didn't have fun. They were working. And even those having the fun many times found disappointment, heartbreak, missed chances and no fun at all. Fun was a word like love. It existed more in the mind then in reality. At least this was the way he saw it.
Reality was a strange thing for Wilton Jaccuri, he liked to forget it by taking long drives, drinking, going to sex movies, visiting massage parlors, trying to pick up girls. Girls was the answer for him. They made him feel wanted, important, a human being again. They didn't make him forget, like they did for some men. He went to the movies or bars or for long drives in the country for that. But girls and women made him real. Knowing what his life had been like it was easy to see why that was true.
All his life self value had been an issue. It was an item he hunted after with a zeal that could only be described as missionary, but which eluded him often, no matter how much he tried. It was just around the corner, a golden ball out of reach, on a ledge across the way, over a chasm a thousand feet deep.
He went from the window to a sidebar and poured himself a drink from a Johnny Walker Red bottle into a cut glass mug. He poured perhaps two fingers worth. Whiskey was another soother of men that helped, but only if you didn't let the sauce get ahead of you and become your master instead of your aid.
Throwing back his head, he drank deeply, then put the mug down and wiped his mouth. He shivered a second, then felt better as the whiskey burned down his gullet, filled his stomach, brought warmth to his lungs and guts and heart. He smiled, catching the smile in the mirror glass top of the sidebar.
He studied the face between the bottles and glasses. A face that was neither young nor old. A face that was lean, yet not hungry. A face that was hard, yet not vicious. A face that was cautious. Eyes that were hard, cruel, lost somehow. They say the eyes are the mirror to the soul. And what he saw in these eyes he did not like. There were men and women who had not liked it either. But it took time to fathom this character. He was not as simple as he looked and hard to understand. And there were people who thought him to be simple, foolish, even dumb. And they thought all these things despite the fact that he was able to clearly demonstrate his superiority. It was a superiority that he sometimes questioned, but never when he was with women. He needed them not for themselves, but for himself. He needed them for the self confidence, compliments and love that they gave to him. They made him feel not just a man, but a human being. And the latter was more important then the former.
His hair was black, straight, glossy. He sometimes felt sorry he had not been born with curly hair, but now was glad of the fact that his hair was straight, easier to manage, especially in the winds which swept from the river and Lake St. Clair across the city with sudden, swift gusts. Nothing as bad as Chicago in the winter, but unnerving at times. He was glad for the gentle touch of spring, which sometimes could be ruthless.
He was the same way, gentle, sometimes ruthless. He liked women, gentle women, hard women, tough, scrappy women, giddy, silly women, hot, sultry women, tall, cool, Nordics.
Jaccuri liked everything. There were men fond of Swedes or Germans or had a letch for French or Italian women, or blacks or Orientals. Not, him. Jaccuri had a letch for it all. He found, as he got older, not that he was old now, thought there were times when he felt like seventy, that he developed a letch for teenagers, girls who were in their middle or early teens, and girls in their early twenties, as well as women far older then him. He could not explain it, did not understand it. All Jaccuri knew was that he liked it.
He took another drink, finished the mug of whiskey and put it down. The juice was beginning to flow, beginning to make him feel warm and alive. He lit another cigarette and went to stare out the window.
He wanted just enough-whiskey in him when that fine bitch, Anita Dumont, came up, to be able to perform without any jerky movements and to give it to her with fire and lust. Proving himself with women was important.
To much, whiskey, he knew, and many men knew, could make a man impotent with a woman. While, for women, whiskey made them more eager and randy for the sex to begin. If both partners had too much to drink it was a nightmare for both. The man proved unable to give and the woman nearly went out of her mind wanting to get and unable to find what she needed. And unless she was fast for other men it often ended without any sex for both partners and grief and later recriminations.
He smiled and sighed. How good it would be to have a woman come to his apartment. It had been months since he'd had one come here, rather then him having to go to her place.
He heard the ring on his doorbell and realized right away who it was. Stopping to stub the cigarette out in his ashtray, he went to the door and opened it without asking who it was. She stood there, a thin smile on her lips, tight fitting jeans and a sweater without a bra clinging to her body. Her cunt was fat and promising against the puffed out crotch. He gulped and grinned, then stepped back and asked her to come in.
As she did, passing him and heading into the living room beyond, his head reeled with the sight of her large buttocks, her fine thighs, the scent of her perfume drifting back towards him on the currents of air eddying out of the house into the cooler hallway beyond. He shut the door and followed her into the living room.
She gazed back at him. He was a fine looking man. She wondered what his problems were and why he had no woman of his own. It would really be a pleasure serving him.
He shut the door and locked it. After her experience with locked doors this sent a twinge up her spine, but it soon passed. Jaccuri did not look the troubled kind.
"Would you like a drink?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Scotch and water or scotch on the rocks?"
"Scotch on the rocks."
He went out of the living room a moment and got a silver bucket of ice from the refrigerator and brought it back. He used silver tongs and gave her ice cubes and about three fingers of scotch. She noticed it was a good brand.
He took the same and they clinked glasses, drank and laughed at one another over the glasses, feeling giddy excitement.
She drank the frosty, hot liquid, feeling the cool burn going down. Then she put her glass down. He put his down a second after. Jaccuri, she now discovered, was not a man of many words. He knew what he wanted and he took it.
He went up to her, smiling into her eyes. She encouraged him, wanting this, not just for what it would give to her, but what she could get from him. If all men were like this, it would be a pleasure fucking for her bread.
His arms encircled her crushed her to his chest and then his lips came down on hers. They kissed hard, each tongue attempting to push out and into a waiting, hot mouth. Instead, they dueled, pushing back and forth.
She felt her tits up against his chest, crushed to him, her nipples already tingling with the touch of him. She kissed back harder and rubbed her tits against him. He grinned as his lips parted from her's.
"You're a fine woman, Anita."
"You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Jaccuri." She wondered why she couldn't think of anything else but that tired, old cliche. But that was forgotten as he said, "call me Will. Wilton's my name, but call me Will. All my friends do, the close ones. The very close ones."
Before her lips could shape themselves to say his name with a smile, his lips, hungry, demanding, were down up her's; sucking away at her mouth.
She felt his hands travel down her back and grabbed a good chunk of ass. Then she heard the faint and clear rasp of her zipper going down. He was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it. She did not resist in the least. This surrender would indeed be a rare pleasure.
His fingers went into her pants, then under her panties to caress the naked, hot, silken, black flesh waiting for his fine touch and eager fingers. He pinched and probed. She felt his passion rise as he did. She felt his lips kiss harder, his tongue shot from his mouth into her's and began to slap her tongue and the lining of her mouth.
The power to cope with all this had been taken from her by the passion rapidly building inside her, the wetness between her legs, the flutterings of her pubic lips.
She felt his fingers drop lower as his hands went deeper into her pants and down along the smooth slope of her ass as he sought for her deep, hot groove and the forbidden flower of her soft anus. He found it. Then, his pinky speared her rubbery asshole and he penetrated into the slicked, wet tropic jungle of her rectum till he had his pinky buried up to the second knuckle.
Then he took his mouth from her, while wiggling his pinky about and sent fast fires rushing along her asshole into her intestines and across into her cunt.
With his face close up, he said, "I want to fuck your big, fine, hairy cunt." With that, his other hand came around in front and hot, eager fingers dug into fine, throbbing, hot pussy under the thin covering of her jeans and panties.
"Oh, yes, fuck me, fuck me," she said with a smile. "Drive it into me. Give it to me hard. Put it into me till my eyes pop."
"Oh, I'll give it to you alright. But your eyes won't just pop. They'll snap and crackle before they pop."
"Where shall we do it," she asked, looking around?
"We can rough it on the carpet, like the Indians in their teepees in the old days."
"How about the bathtub," she suggested?
"Excellent. Come, you can start the tub." He pulled his hand from her cunt and then from her asshole. He took her by the hand, while she held her slacks up with one hand and staggered after him. Her meat really wiggled now. She knew she was going to get fucked and good. This was the way she, liked getting cock and she hoped there would be plenty of it. She was one of those girls who enjoyed big ones. She believed that the more, the better.
He took her into the bathroom, a nice place, with white tile and blue porcelain bathtub and yellow painted walls. He turned on the water, tested it with his hand to see if he had a good combination of warm and cold. Then they watched the tub fill before he went to get soap and towels.
He brought back a bar of Ivory. In his other hand he had two big, pink, fluffy towels. Looking at the tub filling, full of turbulent water, bubbles and gentle wisps of steam, he said, "Cleanliness is next to godliness."
She pointed with her chin at the soap. "I see you've got the soap good enough for a baby's skin. I don't need anything that gentle."
"Your cunt does, when I lather it up. I don't want to use anything hard and damage the merchandise. And if I'm going to use anything good I'm going to use a special soap."
They looked, the tub was almost full. They shut it off. The room seemed peaceful after the rumble and roar of the falling water. Then he disappeared into another room of the house and began to undress. She also took this as her opportunity to take off her garments and put them on a small chair in the hall just outside the bathroom.
Then he came from the room, where he had been stripping, and stopped. He whistled as she held her hands out wide for him to see what she had to offer.
"Turn around," he said. She did, looking back over her shoulder. "Very nice," he said. "Very nice, indeed. Just what a man wants to come home to after a hard day at the office. Nothing like a hard day at home." He rubbed his cock, which she saw, was beginning to harden.
She glanced at his slim, muscled, hairy, tanned skin and the long, dark, firm, thick, blue veined cock hanging down over his dark skinned and wrinkled, hairy ball sac. The balls that hung heavily inside it were large and looked delectable to her eyes.
She walked up to him. "What you need is a little home-maker in your life."
"What I need in my life," he told her, "is a full-time cocksucker."
She smiled without answering, turned and headed for the tub. She stepped in, the water being just right, then slowly sat down in the water.
It was a bit too hot for her sensitive cunt and asshole. When she had her legs stretched out almost full length she looked down at her breasts. They were half-floating in the water, the ample, soft meat proved more buoyant then she expected. Small bubbles by the hundreds adhered to the surface of her breasts. She gazed up at him and saw where his eyes were.
"Like them," she asked; positive he would say yes?
"They're just what I need for lunch."
"Then come in and begin dining, sir."
"Okay, here I come. I hope you're ready for me. I'm a hungry eater."
"That's good, because there's a lot here for you to eat. And I'm sure you have plenty for me to eat."
She fell silent as he began to get into the tub and held onto the sides as he slid down into the water. When his cock and balls touched the water they floated a second before going under. He stopped and winced.
"What is it," she asked, some concern on her face?
"The damn water's too hot. It's stinging my cock and balls."
"Come on in. It's not that bad," she said.
"Easy for you to say. You don't have sensitive balls."
"But I have sensitive tits and a real sensitive cunt."
"It's not the same thing," he finally said, as he sat down and hissed. The water level rose in the tub, almost hitting the edge and overflowing, but not quite.
There was a gurgle beneath them, some of the water escaping down the drain, which was closed, because of the high water pressure.
She giggled. "How do you feel now? You're obviously very sensitive to hot water."
"Obviously. And I think I just cooked my balls."
"Let me see them," she asked; leaning forward, ready to plunge her hand into the water to find the darlings.
"Not yet," he said with sudden alarm.
"Why not?"
"Let them get over the hot water first."
Anita threw back her head and laughed. "You really are funny!" she said. "I wouldn't have known what a sensitive old lady you are, if not for this bath."
"I'm not a sensitive old lady, and move your legs a bit, so I can stretch mine out. I'm sitting here with them folded up."
"Sorry." She moved her legs, pulling them in a bit as he stretched out. His toe touched her cunt.
"My, what a lot of fur we have here."
"If that toe goes any farther," she said, "it'll be sticking in my cunt."
"It's not my toe I want to put there." Finally, he had stretched out as fully as the tub and Anita would allow.
"The water feels real good," he smiled.
She closed her eyes and absorbed the heat. "Mmmm," she said, then asked, "would you do me a favor?" He looked at her.
"Stick your toes against my muff again." She opened her eyes to see his smile. Then she spread her thighs against the enamelled tub walls and watched his knees rise up a bit out of the water and move about. In a second his toes were against the wet hairs of her muff.
She rubbed her muff against him and was rewarded by his wiggling toes. He rubbed them in an up and down motion against her muff.
The water, the entrancing setting, his toes, they all did things for Anita. A warmth began building in her crotch. Then it turned mildly hot.
Jaccuri found her clit and began to run his big toe around it. The hot water added to her comfort and his playing toe began to awaken more of the sleeping senses in her big, busty frame.
As he worked her he sat up and leaned forward. Jaccuri put his hands around her neck, pulled her face forward and began kissing her on the lips.
Anita let her mouth open and invited him to shove his tongue in and do anything in there that his tongue could do. She tried dueling with his tongue, but he proved so much stronger and won out. His passion had already risen past her level. His lusts developed in many places, were further lashed by the sight of her, so ready and juicy. The ghosts of a hundred bedrooms were awakened in him as his passion was driven ever skyward by the touch and sight and sound of her.
His toes were doing a good job at her muff. Anita found herself catching her breath every few seconds. His tongue was now running riot in her mouth, licking the side, the bottom, the top, running along the edges of her teeth, skimming over, around and under her tongue.
Breathless, he at last pulled his tongue from her flaming mouth and fell back with a wet thud against his end of the tub.
"Wow," he said, blowing out air. "That was fine tonguing."
"Stand up," he said.
"Why?"
"I want to eat you out."
Anita grabbed one of the faucets and began to stand. She rose straight up, water dripping from her as if she were some Venus risen from the stygian depths of some deep mountain lake. Then she lifted a leg and put her heel on the edge of the tub. She rubbed her cunt and smiled encouragingly at Jaccuri.
"Here it is. Come and get it!"
They grinned to each other, then he shifted himself along the tub till he was glancing up from under at her dripping cunt. He got onto his knees, and knelt beneath her, his lower half in the water, his face uplifted below her muff.
His pink tongue emerged from his wide-open mouth, as his fingers touched her, then parted her and he began licking her soft, trembling lips.
Anita closed her eyes. She put her hands on his head and then felt the thrill of touching a lover who was doing her so well. This, she imagined, was the kind of thrill he felt when a woman was doing him and his hands rested on her head.
His tongue worked her lips in long, soft strokes and then switched to the opposite lip. He liked working the big, thick lips, she now knew. And he worked them with true professionalism. Back and forth he went, stopping finally, gasping for air. But Anita would not let him stop. She pulled his head back to her muff, squatting down some more and then rubbing her muff against his face.
"Eat it, eat it," she muttered.
And now he went at her with new fervor in answer to her request and desires. His teeth began to nip lightly at her lips in fast, short jabs that covered their length.
Each nip sent a small sparkle of electricity up into her cunt. One after another, these endless sensations made her squirm and wiggle her muff up and down against his face, setting him to gasping. But, he did not stop for one second those wonderful delights that were driving her up the wall.
He switched from lip to lip, not staying more then twenty seconds on a lip. Then he pulled his face from her lips altogether and aimed for the Man in The Boat. His tongue was hot and hard as it began to lick her in up and down and side to side action.
Anita lifted her face so that her tightly shut eyes were pointed upward at the ceiling. Her hot, moist, red-painted mouth opened, wet, sharp, white teeth showing. Hot air escaped from her gasping mouth. Her nostrils flared.
She pulled his face closer and closer against her muff, till she felt his neck resisting her. Anita had him close enough now, he seemed to be saying.
But Anita did not care. She wanted that tongue to keep on thrilling her. Her thighs were trembling because of him and now soft as butter. She had to have him continue this.
"More, harder," she began to gasp; expressing the eternal litany of women in the throes of lust. There was never enough and it was never long enough. And it was never hard enough or thick enough. It always had to be more.
"Do me, do me," she cried.
His tongue was slapping her clit back and forth, then licking at her in long, pink strokes that made her squirm with hot desire. She was forced to grind her face faster and faster against him. Anita wanted to clench her thighs together against his face, but she held herself back. She wanted Jaccuri to be able to breathe while he was working her clit.
Then she felt his tongue stopping. She was about to ask him to continue, but his lips replaced the good feeling of his tongue, as he began sucking at her clit.
An intense fire spread through her cunt. Jaccuri's lips sucked hard and constantly at her clit, giving it not a second's rest, sending a wall of sensations through her. It was an overwhelming wall that made her swoon with the plethora of sensations. Anita had to keep her grip on the faucet in order not to keel over.
His lips let up some on her clit, then parted a bit, but continued sucking, as his tongue took their place and began licking at the tip of her clit, while his lips still did good work around it.
Spouts of fire lashed her tits. Joyce gritted her teeth and began to sway her head slowly, almost hypnotically from side-to-side. She did it without moving her muff, keeping it perfectly aligned over his face, allowing him to work her without a moment's disturbance or distraction. And allowing him to experience the full sensation of the joy of muff.
Purple and crimson welled inside her brain. Her mouth formed kisses in the air. Her lips twisted with the fire of his unending lip and tongue-work. She now pressed her muff more powerfully against his face.
"More, harder," were the words of her sinful, satanic desire. She said the words slowly, catches forming her voice as endless lashes of passion rushed up through her tremoring body.
"Use that tongue," she moaned. "Do me harder. Stick your tongue up my cunt," she groaned, not at all surprised at her lewdness. She wanted it all; anything and everything he could do to her.
She felt his lips and tongue lifting off her clit. The unendurable sensations of pleasure were dying away. But then she felt the pink, hard snake of his tongue jam into her cunthole and ram up as far as it would go.
His tongue was like molten velvet. She clenched at his tongue with her cunt, laughing each time she did so, then letting go of his tongue. She thought for a second of those Cuban cigar makers she had seen in magazine advertisements. She had grimaced in disgust at the big, pulpy tongues licking cigar wrappings. But now she wondered if they were as disgusting as they looked, if perhaps there might not be a use for them. If such men not be great dates. Her only wish at that moment was to have a tongue so big and pulpy up her cunt.
Jaccuri's tongue kept dancing in and out of her; swishing around the clenching cunt walls, licking, stabbing. She began to wiggle her ass to get some of the tension out of her aching cunt.
"Stab harder, much harder," she groaned and pulled his face more into her muff. "Harder, harder," she shouted in her lustfulness.
And harder he did stab, wilder, working her like a dervish. Licking and then licking some more. Nibbling and returned to the licking; using that tongue like a dagger.
Anita began to shiver and shake and throw her head back and forth, sending her hair flying. "Go, go, harder, go, go," she gasped.
And then she came, her body stiffening momentarily, her back arching, her muff rasping forward and backward against his face. Her fluids spilling out hot and boiling and till his tongue jabbed and Anita twisted, rubbing up against him, her tits dancing up and down like melting plastic.
Slashes of red fire flew through her brain. Her entire body seemed twisted about in a vortex that sent her spinning around and around, like someone falling off a merry-go-round.
This too passed gradually. Anita became aware of the man still jabbing into her, his finger playing with her clit. His mind, who knew where, her own head moving about less and less. As the tremors passed she quieted down. As she did, he let go of her and pulled his face and wonderful tongue away from her.
She calmed down a bit more and looked down to see him washing his face in the "Water of the bathtub. As she put the leg, that had been resting on the edge of the tub, back into the water, Jaccuri looked up, laughing, rubbing his face as water dripped off.
"That was quite a meal," he laughed. "Better than two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, onions, cheese and a pickle on a sesame seed bun."
Anita smiled without saying anything. She was still vibrating with the shock of the muff job he had performed on her. She knelt down in the water.
Jaccuri rose and said, "you're in a perfect situation for what I want,"
With that, he lifted his dripping, but still hard cock from the matted, black ringlets of his crotch. "Suck me," he insisted.
Anita brought her face forward, opened her mouth and put her arms around his waist, swallowing four inches of stiff cock. She began to suckle and also wiggled her head from side to side very slowly to get his cock to rub against the wet silkiness of her inner cheeks.
Her suckling indented her cheeks against the length of his cock and made the meat harden and lengthen also, so that she felt his cock pushing against the back of her throat. After several seconds this became a bit uncomfortable and Anita moved her head just a bit to let some of his cock emerge.
She now began suckling a bit harder, stopping every five seconds to lick his cock with her tongue, which worked round and round his cock, despite the fact that it was pretty much swollen in her mouth.
She opened her eyes a moment and looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his head was up and back, his mouth was open and he was holding onto the hot water faucet with one hand and her head with his other hand. Anita closed her eyes and commenced blowing with more force than before.
She slowed her suckling and licking, replacing it instead with the back and forth piston of her mouth and tender lips across the swollen, red meat of his shaft, bulging with blue veinlets and wide, thick arteries; now a blackish-blue against the darker red of his flesh.
She rode the cock rapidly with her lips, but carefully so that she could feel the heat and vibrant beat of his life giving hemoglobin rushing through the veins of the rigid, spongy meat.
He fucked into her mouth slowly, bringing his cock forward and withdrawing. Anita took it all and responded with strokes of her own along the meat. Complimenting his jabs with her swallows, she doubled the friction heat in their orifices and sent stars through her closed eyes.
Anita was unable to contain her own rising heat. The eating he had done just short minutes before was like nothing now. Her heat and the lusts of her inner nature were rushing Anita into one more cumming. She dropped a hand into the water, found her steaming pussy, then began to rub it and soon snaked two fingers into the water-filled hold of her cunt and began to work them in and out at a rapid clip.
She was gasping, twisting her head, opening and closing her eyes. Her mouth continued to move up and down along his cock, making him hotter and harder. She felt the throb of blood inside his shaft now grow stronger. And when Anita began to suckle on the inflamed head the throbbing of the blood grew loud in her ears. It was almost like a second heartbeat.
Jaccuri started to push at her head. He wanted her to stop. At first, Anita thought he was gasping with the joy of her work and that the pushing was just part of his reaction to the overwhelming sensations. But as his pressure became greater, she realized he wanted her to pull her mouth from him because he was ready to fuck Anita.
She realized he was pretty far gone by then. So far gone that he barely had the strength to push her head back and could hardly speak. Reluctantly, she let him from her mouth, red and wet and saliva slicked. Anita licked at her puffed mouth as she let go of his waist and looked up at him.
In a few seconds his eyes fluttered open. His cock was still hard, hanging at half mast over her head and slightly to the side. Anita had to fight the urge to rise up and kiss it. She knew if she did that, she would take him back into her mouth and mercilessly french him till he came and she swallowed every drop of what he pumped into her mouth.
Jaccuri glanced down at her with a smile. "Wow, but you are good. I thought for a few seconds there that I was going to open my eyes and find myself floating through the clouds."
She watched him stop for breath, as his hairy chest heaved up and down. She could not keep herself from cupping his balls.
"Easy," he said with a nervous laugh, almost loosing his balance. His cock moved up and down a few times like a cobra following the flute of a snake charmer.
"Easy now. Unlike M&M's this can melt in your hand and not in your mouth. I want to cum inside of you. Be merciful." He said this last part with a smile.
Anita let go of him, deciding not to take any chances at this critical juncture. She took a deep breath and rubbed her cunt and counseled herself to patience. Soon, soon, he would go into action.
Jaccuri got hold of himself and got down into a kneeling position. Her face was now only inches from his. They gazed at each other with a kind of sparkling, anticipatory smile brides and bridegrooms have at the alter.
But Anita knew, deep in her heart, that while marriages were made in heaven, affairs were made on earth, at the hands of men and women.
"How do you want me," she asked?
"Lie down and spread those chops wide." She did, letting her back hit the tub with a wet thuck. He grinned and licked his lips. "At last, our first underwater fuck," he said.
She lay back, watching him, her tits wobbling in the water, her heart beating rapidly. She gently pulled her pussy lips apart, as he got onto his knees, walked towards her, submerged his cock and placed the head against the opening, then pushed forward.
Anita felt the water being squeezed out of her cunt as his cock squeezed in. He shoved forward with steady pressure until he was buried to the hilt.
Then he stopped, stretched his legs out in the water and looked her full in the eyes. She put her hand out and began stroking his muscles and the hairs of his chest. Her legs closed around him, so that the balls of her feet were resting on his buttocks and her cunt clenched at him more tightly.
"Yes! but this feels good," he exclaimed; momentarily closing his eyes. When he opened them again he brought his hands up to grab her tits. His fingers dug hard into the flesh. She took her hands from his chest and put them around his back. This was so that he might more easily get at her tits without interference.
She pulled her lover closer, sending a smile across his lips. "Easy baby, easy," he muttered as he took her nipples between thumbs and forefingers and began working them together.
She responded almost right away. She was in a very randy state by now. The water they lay in was cooling, but they hardly felt it, as he continued working her, causing Anita to gasp with the stabs of pure sensation racing through her chest and cunt.
She nipped at the thick sausage which had pushed between her legs and licked at her lips in impatient desire to get more of this goodness that he was giving go her.
Anita tried keeping her eyes open, so that she could see what he was doing. But the swell of erotic impulses that he was sending up through her body from her cunt and out through her chest from her nipples, that he worked like control buttons on a console, made her grit her teeth and sent her eyelids slowly fluttering shut.
Her chin lifted, exposing the long, smooth sweep of her neck. At last he took the offer that she was unconsciously making to him. She felt his lips come forward. He kissed her neck from the hollow just above where it met her breast bone to right under her chin. He worked her in small, sharp butterfly kisses, going steadily up and up, till he touched her chin. Then he kissed the point of her chin just once before pulling back.
Anita had been enjoying this immensely and was surprised when he stopped. She wanted him to go on. But then she felt him grab one of the spigots and the side of the tub. He began to lift himself from her slowly. This was it! She shivered.
He pulled out about halfway before ramming back home. It was a short, solid glide, which rammed him home with full force. Anita shivered. He repeated it again. His pace set, he began to fuck into her.
She closed her eyes and wiggled her head and opened her mouth to suck more air into her suddenly oxygen hungry lungs. She wiggled her tits at him as he came down onto her chest. The bite and sting of his wiry chest hairs sent further sensations through her body. These merged with the quick fires of her cunt and the racing ripples of her vibrating belly.
He fucked harder now. She could feel him pushing her down. Her cheeks were splayed each time his cock thudded down into her and fucked her cunt down, opening her wide.
Anita aided and abetted these moves by bringing her legs more tightly around him and using the balls of her feet on his buttocks to shove him forward and deeper into her. At the same time she opposed him as he pulled out, fighting him at every inch of his withdrawal. But he got it all out before smashing back in.
She held onto him, feeling the warm water splashing around her, washing her buttocks and back, tingling her nipples, making the joys of the fuck so much greater.
Anita began to gasp as the heat built in her pussy and the swirling waters caressed every square inch of submerged flesh. She twisted her head to the side, caught his right shoulder between her teeth and bit down.
"Ouch," he said and twisted his shoulder out of her mouth, then said, "just lie there. Let me do the fucking."
He began ramming in and out in longer, harder bashes. Anita thrilled to the hard maleness taking and ravaging her cunt. She gritted her teeth and rotated her head slowly from side to side, while feeling the lashes of orange fire rushing through her and touching every outpost of her body to the tips of her toes and fingers.
She dug her nails into his back, marveling at the glossy smoothness of his skin and began to run her palms and fingers up and down without stopping, licking her lips, making kisses in the naked air.
The water around them spilled, splashed, flowed, sprayed, trickled, over, under, around and through, arms, legs, fingers, breasts, balls, assholes and backs.
Anita began to wiggle her ass sensuously around underneath him, making his plunging cock dance left, right, while he came down and went back up again. She thrilled to the sound of him gasping and hissing and the added feeling it set off inside of her.
The fire brewing in her cunt was flagged on by this latest maneuver and sent racing through her entire body. Inside her brain she was barely able to control the fast stream of thoughts rushing with terrifying urgency every which way. Slashes of brilliant yellow would shoot through her and obliterate everything that had gone before. And on this cleared easel new thoughts would be written. Only to be burned away by the next fire which burst within her brain.
"That's it," she gasped as the heat built in her and she rammed her body up each time he came down into her. "That's it, do it to me. Fuck me harder."
She pumped her legs with hysterical energy, forcing him down into her, twisting her behind against the enameled bottom of the tub, digging her fingernails into his back. And each time he came down she rammed back up against him, pressing her wobbling tits into his chest, hard. This caused them to flatten out. And as he felt the hot, hard nipples go into his flesh, he felt them burn him like hot coals.
The rough way his chest rubbed against her only served to make Anita wilder with the pleasures she was receiving and more lewd and eager for his cock to plunge ever deeper into her. But Jaccuri was going about as far in now as he could go.
Anita nevertheless pulled him into her with each downward thrust he took and at the same time she threw her lower half up towards him in an effort to swallow more of his cock as fast as she could swallow it in.
While Anita proved unable to take more cock then he was able to give, she did succeed in more than doubling the friction of their erotic flesh going against each other. The fires of lust were raised to great heights in both of them and still rose.
"More, more," she shouted, throwing her head to the side. In answer to this growing lewdness he began to huff and puff as he fucked her down into the tub, sending sprays of droplets over both of them and letting her have his cock in longer, slower strokes, which took him out almost to the head and then rammed him back in right to the hilt, so that their hairs were entwined.
His longer and slower strokes drove his tool deep and opened her cunt wide to his penetrations, driving her ass down and splaying it against the bathtub bottom.
Anita knew she could not take too much more of this. The fucking was driving her up the wall. She was beginning to dig her fingernails into her lover's back. She was raking at him in the wildness of her emotion.
Jaccuri speeded up his fucking still more, ramming now at her with ruthless force. He drove his prong into her in long strokes, but much faster than before. Her pussy walls clutched at him. They were on fire. A white hot heat burned in her belly.
Then Anita began to slide towards the edge. This was it. She was cumming! She wiggled faster, harder, and began gasping, "more, more, give me more." Then, with a shudder and a stiffening, she felt the first cum rush from her. It was not as thick or copious as the prior cum, but it was still powerful and sent her spasming into the water, tossing her head from side to side and raking his back, shouting her lust, mumbling, then shivering under the lashes of orange fire and green balls of flame dashing inside her.
She raised and dropped her head twice. She ground her tits into his downward plunging chest, then fell still, feeling the beat of her own feverish heart and the slosh of water around her along with the feel of his still rigid cock rushing in and out of her.
In the midst of all this he spasmed and began cumming. She edged him on by using her powerful limbs to draw him into her and her hands to massage his back. Her cunt clutched at him and milked his cock, as his balls bashed into her asshole and splayed cheeks. He pumped his load into her. Nothing was lost outside her cunt.
He continued to give it to her hard and fast till his flow slowed. As it did, so did the wild, weaving of his cock inside the clenching, tight, hot confines of her cunt. He began to shrink, Anita fighting that by clutching at him with her cunt, slowing the shrinkage, sending new flames racing through his crotch and up his spine into his brain.
She kept on working him with her cunt, feeling him grow again and stop shrinking. And she kept on working him, hoping for a second flow.
Her own fires were not entirely quenched and then the feel of him inside of her made Anita quite randy. She kept on clenching her cunt around him to keep him from shrinking. But somehow she felt as if this were a loosing battle.
Jaccuri opened his eyes to look at her and said, "keep on doing it, baby. Don't stop even for a second."
"I won't. I certainly will keep on doing it," she gasped, surprised at how breathless she was. After another minute, he spit out some water, then said, "stop. My cock's shrinking. This won't work. We just can't go on. My energy's almost gone."
"Aw," she said, then parted her legs and let him pull himself out. He stayed a second, then, when he had enough air in his lungs, he rose suddenly to his feet.
She winced as a spray of water caught her. She looked at his cock, which was now red and shrunken, not big and bursting and proud like it had been before he fucked her.
"What the hell am I standing for," he asked? "I'm not even thinking logically," he said, answering his own question. "That was some fuck," he added with a smile and sat back down. The water in the tub sloshed about with the impact of his sitting down.
"How did you like our bath together," he asked?
"It was grand," she sighed. "I never realized what a pleasure bathing together could be."
"Neither did I," he answered.
"After making love with you in this tub," she said, "I think I could stay here for ever."
"We can't do that," he said. "I have to work and so do you. Those are just dreams of La Man-cha. Impossible dreams that can't come true."
"But we can make them last as long as possible," she said, playing with the hairs on his chest.
"I'm not against that."
"I can come here all the time."
"Sure, why not?"
"It's exciting that way," she answered. "That gut wrenching feeling of knowing that in a short time you'll be bringing happiness to the man of your choice. It almost makes going to bed at night a pleasure one can look forward to."
She leaned forward, her big, heavy wet tits slapping against his chest. Kissing his ear gently, she asked, "do you think we can have one more screw before we have to get out of the bathtub?"
Jaccuri laughed. "What's gotten into you, girl? I thought I was the hot blooded one here."
She looked him in the eyes. "Maybe you've found out a few things since I've come here. And maybe I've found out a few things about myself."
Before Jaccuri could say another word she kissed him full on the lips, grinding her soft, painted mouth down against his and at the same time reaching for his flaccid cock under the water.
"Lord," and, "oh brother," he exclaimed. "You are something else, sweet cheeks!"