A Pendant for Wendy

He was getting there, was so close to the explosion, the surge in his cock threatening to burst out of him in a heavy outpouring of ejaculate when he sensed the door opening.

"What?" Vince gasped as his head turned and his hands scrabbled at the quilt.

The indistinct shadow flitted briefly against the oblong of slightly less dark space before the door slid closed. Vince heard the sibilant shush of the door edge moving over the carpet a moment before the definite metallic snick told him someone was in the room with him, on his side of the closed door.

He opened his mouth to utter her name, stopping the word just in time in case it wasn't Wendy who had entered.

Then Vince experienced a flush of shock and delight when his name came out of the dark on a murmur.

"It's me, Vince," Wendy added. "I ... I can't help it. I had to come."

Vince swallowed heavily and sat up. He blinked and then, keeping his voice low, asked, "Shall I turn on the light?"

"Uh-okay..."

Wendy was standing with her back to the door. Vince looked at her and saw the mixture of fear and yearning in her expression before he glanced at the heart-shaped pendant just visible between the towelling epaulettes of Wendy dressing gown.

He saw Wendy's throat work as she swallowed whatever emotion she was feeling.

"What do you want, Wendy?" Vince asked.

She stared at him for several seconds and then shook her head.

"Do you want to see me, Vince?" she asked.

Excitement ballooned beneath Vince's ribs, an anxious swelling that made the breath catch in his chest.

"Wendy," he croaked, "can I? Do you mean...?" He nodded in her direction, indicating Wendy's robe.

Wendy nodded and replied with, "Yes, Vince, naked."

The bed moved and creaked.

"Yes," Vince hissed. "Oh god, Wendy ... Yes."

Wendy smirked and took a pace into the room.

"Shush," she said. "Not so loud." She cast a glance at the door, her meaning obvious. Wendy took a few more steps, going right up to the edge of the bed. "I'll show you," she added, the grin widening. "But let me see you first." She reached out, leaning forward to grasp the quilt at Vince's waist. "Look at that," breathed Wendy, eyes on the long thick tumescence that lay over Vince's stomach after she'd whisked the bed cover away. "You're hard," Wendy added with a moan. "So big and stiff." Her eyes went up from the sight of Vince's arousal to his face. "And so fit ... Vince, your stomach and chest are lovely. You're a beautiful example of a man."

The compliments filled Vince with confidence. Wendy liked him; in fact she was positively drooling.

"And you're beautiful, Wendy," he replied. "It's because you're so sexy that I've got a hard-on. You make me feel so good."

Doubt clouded Wendy's face.

"Looking at you," she murmured with a shake of her head, "I'm not sure. You're so fit, Vince. Your body ... God, just look at you, all tight and firm ... I'm an old woman, Vince. I'm not like I used to be. I'm not a stick-thin model or anything."

Vince scrambled onto his knees, erection waggling, forgotten for the time being.

"Wendy," he said, voice quiet yet urgent. "I don't care about anything like that. I just think you're gorgeous." Vince lifted his hands but was reluctant to touch Wendy, still bound by the last threads of convention and decorum regardless of his nudity. He shook his head and blew out his cheeks in frustration. He had to make her understand. "You're pretty," Vince added. "I love the way you dress..." Vince rolled his eyes and grinned with relish. "You show off what you've got without being tarty, Wendy." His eyes roved over the swell of Wendy's bosom beneath the robe. "I've thought about your boobs, Wendy. God, I've thought about seeing them and holding them..."

Wendy gazed at Vince, stared into his eyes and heard the sincerity in his voice.

"Okay," she said, nodding. "All right. If you want to see them..."

A gasp burst out of Vince, his eyes huge and round as he gawped at Wendy's breasts.

"Fuck," he mumbled, gazing in apparent awe.

Wendy chuckled. "They're just tits, Vince."

His eyes went up to hers. Vince gulped. "Wow ... Wendy ... Yes, but..."

Wendy shrugged. "Touch them if you want."

Vince's hands moved slowly, his fingertips testing breast-flesh, his expression absorbed.

"Fuck," he muttered again. "Fucking lovely." Vince sighed and began to squeeze, one hand on Wendy's body, the other moving to his cock.

"Suck them," Wendy breathed. Her head lolled back and she offered her breasts to Vince's lips. "Suck my tits, baby."

Then Vince had both hands at her, pressing the outer flanks of Wendy's breasts, his tongue sliding from one nipple to its twin and back again. He was moaning, slurping and licking and sucking at Wendy's thick, elongated teats.

"Don't make so much noise," cautioned Wendy. "Your mum..."

"I'm sorry," Vince whispered. "But, fuck, Wendy ... This is killing me. I just want to ... to ... to..."

Wendy pulled away from Vince. "I know." Her eyes rolled. "Believe me, Vince, I know. But we can't make noise."

"Can I see the rest of you?" Vince reached for the robe held up around Wendy's waist by the crooks of her elbows. He yanked insistently and then mumbled an oath when the dressing gown tumbled to the floor.

"Duh-do you like me?" Wendy asked, stuttering.

There was a long pause, Vince's eyes locked on that place at the junction of Wendy's thighs. Then he looked up, head tilted slightly back because of Wendy's height in relation to him kneeling on the bed.

"You're kidding?" Vince breathed. He grinned at Wendy and flicked a glance at her depilated mons. "You're fucking perfect, Wendy. Absolutely fucking fan-fucking-tastic."

The track of Vince's stare moving over her body filled Wendy with delight. His words thrilled her, the look in his eyes, the hunger she saw made her brazen and she flaunted herself at him. With the dressing gown around her feet, the gentle glow from the lamp kind to her skin, Wendy stepped back and placed both hands on her hips.

She thrust her mons towards Vince, revelling in his glitter-eyed appraisal as she said, "Is this what you wanted to see, Vince?" Wendy's hands moved, palms sliding over her skin before she hefted the weight of her breasts, tit-flesh spilling over her fingers. "Are my tits all that you thought they would be?" She eased her feet wider, shoving her sex even further forward. "Did my pussy surprise you?" Wendy chuckled and winked, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. "Didn't expect it to be all smooth, did you, baby? You thought it was going to be a right bush down there, eh?"

Vince nodded, head going up and down while his mouth hung open.

"I don't mind either way, Wendy," he gurgled eventually. "I thought it would be hairy, but it's like that."

Wendy's chin nudged forward. "That thing's an eye-opener."

Vince looked down to the jib of his erection, its steel undiminished during their conversation.

"It is?" he asked, blinking up at Wendy again.

She grinned and winked once more. "Oh yes, Vince. You haven't disappointed me."

Then Wendy stepped forward, kicking her feet clear of her dressing gown, tutting at the minor irritation.

"Lie down," Wendy muttered, a hand on Vince's shoulder. "On the bed, stretch out so I can touch you."

Vince levered himself onto his side, rolling over until he was laid full-length on top of his bed.

"Can I touch you, too?" he asked.

"Anywhere you want, darling," breathed Wendy. She scooped the rigid length up with one hand, stroking its length, fingers squeezing a groan and an eye-roll from Vince. "Touch my breasts, feel my skin," whispered Wendy. "Feel me between my legs if you can, Vince," she added. "I'm so hot and wet down there. I'm so fucking turned on."

Vince gulped, his gaze fixed on Wendy's hand moving up and down the length of his cock.

"I ... I want to fuck you, Wendy," Vince moaned, hips lifting from the bed as he fucked into Wendy's fist. "I want to do it with you."

Wendy paused, the reality of the situation percolating through lust and desire and yearning.

She looked into Vince's face and said, "I don't know if we can, Vince." She shook her head. "It would get too crazy, too out of control. The bed," Wendy indicated Vince's bed with the forefinger of the hand not filled with his gristle. "There'd be too much noise from the bed bouncing about under us. We'd make so much noise ... I'd want to scream the place down, Vince. I'd get all vocal and shout at you to fuck me."

"But I really want to stick it in you, Wendy?" Vince whined. He thrust at Wendy's hand in emphasis. "Please. Can't I fuck you?" He began to babble, words tumbling out on a tide of desperation. "We could do it on the floor," Vince jabbered. "Or I could get behind you. You could stand up with your hands against the wall. I could get behind you and do it that way. That'd be great. I could hold your tits and fuck at the same time. Wendy ... Please, Wendy ... Can't we do it like that?"

It was tempting. So very tempting. He was so full of vigour and desperation. Wendy closed her eyes and pictured herself in the pose Vince had described. She could see herself, hips thrust back in invitation while Vince's fingers dug into her hips, him thrusting at her, his cock swelling inside her as his grip went from her hips to her breasts. Wendy heard herself muttering for her lover to maul her tits and to fuck his meat in and out of her sodden pussy.

"Oh, Vince," she sighed. "If only, darling."

Wendy began to tug at his length again, her fist working faster.

"I'd love to feel you inside me," she whispered. "God, but it would be lovely to have you there."

Vince grunted and gasped and mumbled incoherently. His eyes closed and he winced, his cock leaking pre-cum that squelched obscenely while Wendy cranked away.

"Shit," Vince hissed, his eyes snapping open after nearly a minute of Wendy's hand action. "I'm going to--" he grunted.

Wendy dropped Vince's penis, the head and stalk slapping back against his stomach.

"Not yet," she said. "It's too soon, Vince."

Hauling himself up onto one elbow, Vince grabbed his cock.

"I was wanking when you came in," he responded, yanking himself. "I was thinking about you and playing with myself when you came in."

"You dirty bugger," Wendy replied with a low chuckle and a smirk. She slapped at Vince's hand. "Stop that," she chided. "You can pull it in a minute. In fact..."

Wendy stood up and turned to face the bed. Vince mumbled an oath and reached up to caress a dangling breast as Wendy first knelt on the mattress and then, after swatting Vince's pawing hand away, she lay down on her side.

"In fact, she continued, her hip nudging Vince so he shuffled across to give her room, "you can kneel up and wank that thing for me." Wendy's knees folded and her thighs dropped apart. "Get there between my legs, Vince. Wank your cock for me. I want to watch you while I have a little play myself."

A pause of a few beats while Vince's brain soaked up the request, and then he moved on his knees, upright and erect, hard-on in his fist as he stared down at Wendy.

"Fuck, Wendy," Vince sighed, fist working hard and fast. "You're gorgeous. Really fucking lovely."

"Show me, Vince," the woman urged. "Wank and show me how much I turn you on." Wendy gasped and moaned, thighs shivering as her hips juddered in response to the sensations between her legs. Her fingers stirred her vulva, an occasional digit diddling at her clit as she stared at the terrible length of Vince's arousal. "Pump it, Vince," Wendy groaned. "Wank that lovely cock."

Vince used one hand on his member, the palm of the other hand sliding over Wendy's skin. He squeezed the spongy softness of Wendy's breasts, the texture of that flesh fascinating him. He leaned over, bending at the waist as he sucked Wendy's nipples, his mouth moving up to hers before, following the merest hesitation from Wendy, she accepted his tongue.

"Can I fuck you, Wendy?" Vince mumbled. "Please."

"Vince," Wendy gasped, her fingers working at her slippery folds. "Just wank. Just pull your cock, darling. You'd come if you put it in. I know you would. You'd slide in and you'd come."

"But I want to come," replied Vince, his voice rising. "Wendy ... I'm ... I'm..."

Wendy heard the inevitability in Vince's croaking voice. She saw his fist working at his length, watched the thing swelling, the head all big and purple and dangerous.

"Then let it go when it comes, Vince," she grunted, her own climax building, a reaction to witnessing a fit young man masturbating. "Just let it pour out, darling. It'll get me there too. I'll come if I see the hot stuff pour out of you. Vince, oh, fuck, Vince, come for me, baby."

And then a splash of viscous gloop flicked across Wendy's stomach. She looked down and saw the long splat of jizm settled there, glistening on her skin, and it took a moment for Wendy to truly realise Vince was coming. Her brain refused to accept he was really letting it go as she stared at the splash of silvery ejaculate, her mind boggling that it was Vince, Marian's son whose semen had landed on her with such force. Then more of the stuff spattered onto her, a dollop plopping onto one breast before another more violent spurt flicked across her chin and lips, its gooey trail laid over the bridge of Wendy's nose.

"My face," Wendy hissed, somehow remembering to keep her voice low. "You've spunked on my face, Vince."

But Vince didn't care. He was in that place, lost to her. He was yanking his cock, low grunts coming out of him as his semen rained down, an indiscriminate deluge of pent-up desire and frustration finally released.

Jizm spattered onto Wendy's stomach, more of it spraying over her forearm as she wiped at the stuff already coating her skin, yet more cascading onto her thigh. Vince held onto himself and aimed the cock-head right at Wendy's vulva, the final squirts hitting labia already slick and wet, greasy and tacky with Wendy's own fluids.

"Oh my God," Wendy mumbled, fingers smeared with ejaculate. "I'm covered in it."

And then, while Vince sucked in deep breaths, his eyes taking in the ruin of Wendy's skin spattered with semen, the woman herself rubbed at her sex and coaxed a juddering paroxysm of clench-teethed pleasure from her body.

Wendy gasped and moaned, the muscles in her thighs jumping, nerveless as her climax boiled and seethed, her fingers mauling at her breasts, Vince's jizm smearing everywhere.

It took a minute and more for Wendy to calm, the shuddering orgasm rolling on, its momentum slowing until, finally, while her breasts rolled and her ribcage heaved, she sucked in deep breaths and fixed Vince with a clear-eyed stare.

"That was good," Wendy sighed. "So very good." She dabbed at the gloop that covered her, scooping the thick rope from her chin and bridge of her nose with the edge of a finger. "And how much spunk did you spray over me?" Wendy grinned and jack-knifed at the waist, levering herself upright until she could lean even further forward. Then, bending over she reached for Vince's cock, the thing dribbling jizm yet still firm, its vigour only slightly diminished. "I'd better go now," mumbled Wendy before she pressed pursed lips to the tip of Vince's penis. Her tongue slid around the big plum and she closed her eyes and moaned. "I'd better get out of here before we end up doing it."

Vince collapsed onto his bed, his attention fixed on Wendy as she bent to retrieve her dressing gown.

"Do you have to go?" he asked, eyes beseeching.

Wendy nodded, her expression an indication of her regret, the temptation to simply straddle the young man strong yet beatable. Fingers of guilt were already beginning to take hold of her. Wendy thought of Marian and the betrayal she'd already laid upon her friend.

"I ... I have to, Vince."

Vince groaned and closed his eyes as Wendy covered her nakedness.

"But what we did," he said. Vince stroked his penis. "Look at it, it's still hard. Wendy, we could do it."

However, regardless of how tempted she was by the sight of Vince's potency, no matter how good she knew it would be if she climbed onto the bed and just squatted over Vince, his cock filling her insides with heat and power, Wendy refused to be dissuaded from her course of self-denial.

"No, Vince, we can't. The noise ... Your mother ... I can't, darling."

She turned to leave, tightening the belt of her robe around her waist.

"Tomorrow?"

Wendy turned back when she heard the desperation in Vince's voice. She stared at him for a long time, seconds ticking by, mind awhirl with conflict.

"I don't know, Vince," she said eventually. Then she shook her head. "No," Wendy added. "I don't think it would be a good idea."

**

She woke late and sat up in bed blinking at the sunlight that backlit the curtains. It was warm in the room, warm enough for Wendy to let the cover fall from her body as she examined the crusty patches of dried semen that patterned her breasts and stomach. She pulled a face and the residue of the stuff Vince had let fly at her cheek and chin stretched tight. Wendy had forgone a visit to the bathroom after leaving Vince's room. She'd been reluctant to wash him off her body for some reason, and had lain awake in bed for a long time thinking about her transgression, the musky scent of jizm wafting up at her from the warm bed.

The presence of that stuff on her skin reminded Wendy of how it had come to be there. She recalled the events of the previous night, her pussy clenching, hungry and unfulfilled.

"Oh god," Wendy sighed. "What have I done?"

She slid a hand under the pillow next to her, fingers finding the dildo nestled beneath.

A minute later, after a short yet intense internal struggle, Wendy was sliding the length of the dildo between her labia. She mumbled and sighed and moaned as the gnarled rubber, the exaggerated bumps and protrusions moulded to represent thick veins on a cock, bumped over her clitoris.

Soon after her capitulation to her body's urges, Wendy had the thing inside her body, fucking it into her opening as she brought the images of what she'd experienced with Vince back to life.

Wendy imagined the two of them on some tropical holiday, alone together where they were free from restraint and where Marian didn't exist.

They were joined together under a hot sun, outdoors, rutting like beasts, Wendy groaning and grunting while Vince moved inside her, his erection filling her.

Wendy pulled the dildo out of her body and licked her own desire from it, pretending it was Vince's penis she was sucking. She could picture his face as she performed the lewd act; Wendy could hear his gasp of disbelief.

Then she was fucking herself again, one hand tight around the latex girth while the middle finger of her free hand taunted her clitoris. Wendy was getting there, the orgasm looming, rising up to take her while she called to mind the suggestion Vince had made. With the climax threatening to explode Wendy saw herself standing up, forearms and elbows braced against a wall while she offered her sex to Vince behind her. His fingers were pressing into her hips, her breasts swung and swayed, and her pussy was stretched by the swollen girth of his erection.

"Fuck me," Wendy grunted. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

And then there was a knock at the door.

A tight band of panic forced the breath out of Wendy. She laid there, her back resting at forty-five degrees, propped up by pillows, legs bent at the knees, half the dildo's length hanging out of her.

She recovered in the blink of an eye and pulled the cover up over her breasts.

"Yes?" warbled Wendy, voice tremulous on the adrenalin surge.

The door opened. Wendy blinked.

"What are you doing here?" she said, surprised to see Vince in the doorway. "Get out," she added, shooing him away with a waving arm.