Encounters with John Wayne Ch. 11

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They both moaned as he slowly slid into her—they both kept trying to record in their memories every sensation from these moments, but each time it still felt new and different and exquisitely sensual. When he was fully inside her, he opened his eyes; they were facing toward the water and he asked her if she had her eyes open, and she said yes. As he started pumping slowly in and out of her, he told her that he wanted her to imagine that they were on a beach or a boat, her choice, and that they were going to fuck like they were listening to the pounding of the waves, or feeling the boat rocking on the waves and they were going to set a rhythm to match the sound or the movement.

So she started dipping her body, moving her back and her ass gently up and down in a slightly rolling motion, trying to make her movements look like the waves do as they gently roll onto the shore. He got what she was doing and started to match his movements to hers so that just when her ass was at the "crest of the wave" and starting to break, his dick and hips would crash into her pussy and hips and they would roll downward together. Then as the "wave" started to build again, he would slide out of her and be ready to crash into her again at the crest. They went on like this for a couple minutes, then she whispered, "A storm is coming!"

He knew what she meant; the "waves" were going to get a little faster and more turbulent, so when she picked up her pace, he was ready. She wasn't rolling and dipping any more, her "waves" were savagely pounding on his "shore" and she was moaning constantly. He saw her move her right arm and hand down between her legs and he thought she was going to rub her clit while she was slamming into him, but instead he felt her massaging his balls, which made him groan. Then she started groaning, "Ohh...ohh...ohh..." as her hand massaged his balls even firmer and he felt the tingling start at the base of his dick...he was getting close. He grasped her hips and pounded into her a few times as fast and hard as he could, and her upper body collapsed off her left arm and her face went into the towel on the chaise cushion as she let out a short, loud scream and her pussy tightened and then started to throb on his dick.

He continued to thrust in and out of her throbbing pussy until he felt the release of his orgasm and his hips bucked a couple times, then he just held himself still inside her until they both stopped throbbing. Then he slowly eased out her, and lowered himself to sit on the chaise with the towel under him and his legs on either side of it just behind her, with her ass still in the air...God, what a sight that was! Her dark rose pussy lips were spread wide and dripping with her cum, and his, and he put his hands on her hips to steady her so he could just stare at it for a moment or two. As he looked, he could see her opening slowly contracting from being stretched so much to fit his thick cock. No wonder she always felt so tight, and like she was made just for him...he realized, agonizingly, that her pussy could probably make any man feel that way.

Then he reached around behind him and set the back of the chaise up so he could lean against it, and he grasped her waist and helped her move to sit between his legs and lean back on him as he stroked her hair and her shoulders and arms. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then said softly in his gravelly rumble, "That bastard that took your virginity was a fool, little girl. Your body was made for sex; your sweet pussy would make any man crave to be inside you again and again." He growled this question, "Tell me the truth—how many of those men you used for your own pleasure begged for the chance to fuck you again?" as he gripped her upper arms tightly.

She was silent for a moment, not knowing whether she wanted to answer this question, but figured there was no reason to lie to him about anything now. She replied quietly, "Almost all of them." She knew where he was headed when he asked his next question...he still didn't understand why she loved and desired him so much but did not want to be with him forever.

"And did you let any of them fuck you again?" he ground savagely through his teeth as he almost dug his fingers into her arms. She shook her head and whispered no. He relaxed his grip on her arms, and growled again, "Why not? I know how much you enjoy sex and you said you didn't take that many opportunities to fuck a man so why not let them fuck you as many times as they were able to while you were with them? Tell me that, Diana, why the hell not?" He shook her shoulders slightly then released them at the end of that last question, hoping he would hear the answer that he wanted.

She knew what he needed to hear; and the fact that it was the truth just made it that much harder for her to admit to him and then still try to convince him that she couldn't stay with him. She sat up and scooted to the end of the chaise then stood up and spun around to face him with her hands on her hips, and spat at him through her teeth, "Because...none of them were YOU, goddamn it! Is that what you needed to hear? Why the hell did you even ask me when you already know the answer! What the hell do I have to do to convince you that I have never and will never again in my life want or love any other man as much as I do YOU—and I'm sorry that I am not strong enough to think I could survive a life with you!" She was nearly yelling at him and panting heavily from the emotions roiling through her.

He just stared at her as she stood there, completely naked, with her hands on her hips, her chest heaving, and her eyes blazing at him...goddamn, she was so sexy, even when she was mad! He started to realize this was not the right time to try to convince her to change her mind about staying with him—he might end up pushing her away too soon before he could show her what life with him could be like. He closed his eyes for a second, then looked at her apologetically and rumbled softly, "I'm sorry, little girl, I just feel...jealous sometimes, wishing I could've been that stupid bastard you fell in love with—I would never have let you go." He held his arms out to her and, without hesitation, she moved to straddle his hips and sit on his lap facing him.

She smiled at him as she stroked his neck and face with her hands, then said softly, "But you forget...I fell in love with you long before I met him. What I felt for him pales by far in comparison to what I feel for you. In my dreams and fantasies, you are the one to whom I gave my virginity. He only managed to tear through some physical barrier inside my body. Yes, I'd given him a little piece of my heart—but the rest of it was still yours. Sometimes, I think I got what I deserved because I think he knew I would never let him replace you completely. Right now, my heart belongs to you, and part of it always will—no matter what happens."

He put his arms around her and held her against him, and rumbled softly, "The same goes for me, little girl; you have my heart and you will always own a piece of it as well. I guess I will somehow have to make myself be content with that."

They both took a deep breath and sighed heavily, then she leaned back to look at him and smiled softly, and said, "Thank you for helping me make another one of my fantasies about you come true," then she kissed him tenderly.

He smiled back, "Well, maybe I can do even better than that at some point," he said mysteriously, as he lifted one of his eyebrows and stared into her eyes. She frowned and looked confused wondering what he meant, and he chuckled and said, "There's any number of scenarios we could come up with to play out those fantasies, little girl, and we'll talk about them a little later. But right now, I have a little game I want to play with you." Her eyes widened in surprise and she waited with a curious look on her face for him to explain.

He told her that he remembered she said her father had taught her to play poker when she was four and asked her if she still knew how to play. She looked offended and said of course she still knows how to play; she and some her girlfriends would get together sometimes when none of them had dates and have a "girls' poker night"—complete with booze and cigars! Now he was surprised! Damn it—when would she stop throwing him curve balls that just made him want her even more! He shook his head to clear his mind, then told her that he wanted them to sit down and play some hands of poker; no money at stake, just whoever won each hand would get to tell the other person something they wanted them to do.

She asked him what kinds of things. He suggested it could be anything from benign favors to extremely sexual; whatever they wanted the other person to do for them or to them or even just to have to give an honest answer to a question. They would have to tell each other at the beginning of each hand what they wanted from the other person if they won, so neither of them would feel too vulnerable not knowing what the other was going to ask them for. She thought about it for a moment and then agreed; then she warned him, "I'm a pretty good poker player; I usually win."

He stared straight at her, and said seriously, "So do I." Let the games begin!

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