Lady Behind The Wall

I had never told her how beautiful I thought her pussy was. The outer lips were absolutely symmetrical and beautifully shaped; and when swollen by arousal as they were at this moment, parted of their own accord to expose the inflamed inner lips already wet with female lubrication. Her clitoris stood fee of its hood, pink, prominent and eager for my touch, be it with prick, lips, mustache, tongue or fingers.

I loved the scent of hot-blooded, horny woman they exuded, an odor that could turn me from a civilized man to a conquering barbarian born to ravage and pillage this gorgeous slut. I also loved the spicy taste of Deirdre's essential female nectar, a flavor that always caused my cock to lengthen and thicken from its usual slightly larger than average size to a proud, long, steel-hard rod with a circumference that would do credit to a porn star. If I could only figure out how to synthesize my lover's pussy juice, I could run all those erectile dysfunction drugs out of the marketplace in a heartbeat.

I bent down and slowly ran my tongue over her pussy, savoring the taste of her, smiling as I watched her squirm. She wanted more and I was happy to give her what she wanted, easing down and settling in to bring her off again. I loved performing cunnilingus on Deirdre.

I tongued her, ignoring her clit at first in favor of teasing her inner lips and running a fingernail lightly along her clitoral shaft. She thrust her hips up, trying to drive herself into my mouth as I worked her hot box, curling my tongue and pressing into her as far as I could. She groaned and twined her fingers in my hair, wanting more and deeper penetration of her oozing twat so she could cum again.

"Oh, John! You're so good! Lick me, lover! Lick my pussy! I'm so hot! So ready for you! I want to cum for you! Make me cum! Please make me cum, darling!"

She gasped and climaxed again as I thrust two fingers into her vagina, bending and twisting them inside her, searching for her G-spot and finding it. She shuddered with her release and clamped down again and again on my fingers as her cooze rippled with the force of her release and a gout of cunt juice ran down my chin. I kept right on with what I was doing, listening to her whimper and beg for more as I continued to work her pussy.

"Ohhh, that's so good! You're so good! Please, darling, don't stop! Don't ever stop! So good... so gooood. I'm your slave. Do anything you want to me, anything, but please don't stop!"

My fingers continued to move inside her as I shifted my attention to her clitoris. I allowed a small thread of saliva to drip onto it and she purred at the contact. Then I pursed my lips and sent a stream of air over it. Deirdre shook with the force of her orgasm as the unexpected sensation hit her. I followed up with my tongue, tickling and teasing her clit from its tip to the base of the clitoral shaft. She rode the pleasure wave, hips jerking up to meet my mouth as I gave her clit a lengthy tongue bath, glorying in my power over her. Her climaxes were crowding in on each other now with scarcely any interval between them as I continued to eat her. Her legs were splayed wide as she willingly opened herself completely to me.

Her nails dug into her breasts as I ran my mustache the length of her clitoris and down her pussy lips. She came again, moaning loud enough to be heard down the block, I was sure.

"Ohmigod! Yes! Yes! Yes! Cumming! Oh yes! Yes! Y-E-E-E-S-S!"

As her wet twat relaxed on my fingers, I pulled my fingers out and moved up over her. She lay wide open on the bed, a veritable ocean of sexuality waiting to be explored. I reared up and plunged into her liquid depths, my cock burying itself inside her as I plumbed her cunt. She sighed tempestuously and pulled me into her, arms rising to encircle and hold me, writhing as I probed her body.

"Yes, John! Fill my pussy! That's what I need! Give me your beautiful cock, my love! Use me! My body is yours, the instrument of our pleasure! You're so big! I can feel you all the way up to my throat! Don't worry about hurting me! Just fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me, lover, fuck me!"

As I took her, it was like my cock was sinking into molten lava. Our mouths locked together, tongues dueling, lips aflame with desire. I could feel the hard nubbins of her nipples against me as she pulled me down to her, wanting my weight on her. We were beyond words now, the only sound in the room the squishing noises as I pistoned in and out of her willing twat, stroking her hard and bottoming out with each thrust . She wanted me deep inside her, her pussy muscles fighting to keep me in at the bottom of each stroke, resisting as I pulled back for another, and another, and another.

Time became irrelevant. We existed in a bubble-universe all our own, where the only thing that mattered was the pleasure given and taken between us. We broke our kiss and I locked eyes with her, seeing in those still indigo and sable pools the depth of her love for me and the height of the pleasure we exchanged between us. We were linked by more than rigid penis and sopping vagina; it was as though there was a tangible connection between us through our eyes. Deirdre was completely open, her self there to be read by me as mine was to her. I wanted to go on forever like this, but I knew I couldn't last forever. My own climax was fast approaching.

Reading it in my face, Deirdre whispered, "Yes, my love. Let it come. Cum in me. I want to feel you spurt inside of me. Don't try to hold back. Just give me your sperm. I want it. I want it all. Cum in me, John. Please."

My cock stiffened even more because of her begging, I made one final, brutal thrust and climaxed, the ejaculate jetting out of me in rifle-like shots. As I came, her pussy locked on my rod and she shrilled her climax to the walls. Still locked in each other's arms, we lay on the bed in a puddle of our own sweat and sexual juices.

Slowly and with reluctance, I returned to reality. My darling lay under me, exhaling sensuous groans as she too reentered the real world. I eased out of her and off her; she rolled to keep me in her warm embrace, arms and legs still wrapped around me, not wanting our interlude to end. I stroked her hair and was rewarded with a tender smile.

"Deirdre my love, what we need now is total relaxation."

"More than this?" she asked, snuggling closer and kissing my neck.

"Even so. Go to your bathroom and take a shower, then join me in theofforo. It's not as good as sex, but it's a wonderful way to relax afterwards."

She slowly rolled away from me and stood up. I ran a hand along her flank and she smiled. She disappeared toward her bathroom and I emulated her, heading to mine after trotting downstairs to grab a bottle of white wine from the cooler and two glasses.

I showered quickly and had just bolted back the lid of the hot tub when Deirdre joined me in a terrycloth bathrobe. She busied herself extracting the cork and pouring the wine while I switched on the water jets. Handing me a glass, she stepped up to the tub, Venus preparing to sink into the water. I handed her in, enjoying the sight as she eased down on the bench that ran around the perimeter. Theofforowas designed to accommodate six people, though I'd never had more than two in it, and that rarely. As she settled in, I joined her.

It was a sensual experience. Neither of us made advances, though we sat with arms around each other, simply enjoying the intimacy of lovers. A caress of the breast, a gentle kiss, a hand sliding down my chest to find my cock and lightly grasp it; it was enough. It was cherishing rather than foreplay, and we both enjoyed it.

After awhile, we climbed out and dried each other off before leaving to dress. I got into a pair of gray sweats and a tee shirt. When I rejoined my lady in the bedroom, she had opted for a set of hostess pajamas. Decently clad, she still looked to me like a woman letting her lover know of her availability.

"Let's see what we can assemble for dinner," I said after taking a moment to enjoy the view. "It won't be as good as you deserve because I dumped all the perishables before the trip, but I ought to be able to rustle up something edible."

"It doesn't require exotic or expensive ingredients to make a meal special," she replied, taking my arm. "What makes it special is that we'll make it together."

After inspecting the cupboards and the freezer, we settled on angel hair spaghetti with meat sauce, emphasis on the meat. Digging a gallon of jug wine out of the cabinet (simple meals deserve good but simple wine), I opened the cap to let it breathe. Deirdre was browning the hamburger and ground sausage and mixing them together. Coming up behind her, I slipped my hands under her pajama top and cupped her breasts. She purred and brought her hands behind my head, pulling me to her, feeling my erection against her buttocks.

"Hard again so soon? You must be made of iron. Mmmmm... your hands feel good on my tits. I like it." Taking my hand in hers, she brought it to her pussy. It was puffy as I instinctively slipped a finger inside and ran my thumb along her clitoral shaft, feeling her answering wriggle as her other hand wrapped around my butt and pulled me into hers, my prick finding the valley between her ass cheeks. We kissed, her mouth opening under mine to accept my questing tongue. She sucked it, acknowledging my possession of her before she broke the kiss to turn into me.

"But you'd better let me finish cooking before you take me again, my love. Much as I want you, we do need to eat. Is there any bread in the house?" I kissed her again before releasing her and checking in the freezer to see if we had any of the ready-to-bake loaves of French bread I bought at the local farmstand.

We dined that night on pasta, hot bread fresh from the oven and wine, with lemon sorbet served in its own lemon shell for a palate-cleansing dessert. After tossing the dishes and cooking gear into the dishwasher, we returned to the bedroom.

Deirdre flowed into my arms, whispering, "Let me show you how a woman should greet her man when he comes home from work."

Her mouth found mine, her moist lips already parted as we kissed. Our embrace tightened as our tongues touched in the opening phrase of an oral duel, thrusts, parries and reprises heightening the gambits of the act of love. One hand insinuated itself into my hair, controlling the kiss as the other hand slipped inside my robe to find my buttocks, pulling me to her. My rampant penis rubbed against her pussy lips through the silk of her pajamas and she moaned. Breaking the soul kiss, she slid slowly down me, pausing to kiss my nipples and belly button before ending on her knees before me, her head level with my cock.

Taking her time, she kissed and licked her way along the shaft, paying special attention to the frenum, her hand encircling the shaft and very slowly squeezing and stroking it as she returned her attention to the purple head. She kissed it, her tongue parting the tiny slit at the tip, tasting the pre-cum that was beginning to leak from it. She looked up at me, eyes hot with desire.

"I love the taste of you, my darling. Your cum is sweet and clean, with none of the sour notes of excess booze or the bitter flavor of drugs or tobacco. I want to feel you explode in my mouth. I want to drink every drop of your cum. Let me suck you and receive what I crave. Would you like that, darling?"

"Yes," I whispered hoarsely. "Suck my cock, Deirdre. Suck me dry! Let me cum in your mouth!" She kissed my cockhead, still looking up at me, her hand moving on my prick.

"Oh yes, darling. I'll do you proud. I'll do it all. Just close your eyes and let go. There's no shame here. I want you in my mouth. Let me please you. Show me I please you by cumming for me, my love."

She took the head into her mouth, her lips closing behind the ridge as her tongue laved the head of my prick and her hand moved faster on the shaft. My hips involuntarily began to thrust into her face and she went with the motion, controlling the penetration and not allowing me to gain as much as a millimeter. Her other hand pressed on my stomach, flattened like a cop signaling you to stop. I managed to hold still and she broke off working my cock to smile at me.

"That's right. Let me do everything. You've only had blowjobs before. I'm going to teach you the difference between a blowjob and fellatio. Just let go, John. Forget about everything you think you know and concentrate on my mouth. My lips are magic and I want you inside them, filling my mouth, going down my throat...."

Her voice was soothing and at the same time hypnotic. She returned her attention to my penis and did something that involved simultaneous suction, humming and a gentle torque with her hand on the shaft. Whatever she did, I hardened even more. It felt as if she was trying to suck down a kielbasa and was succeeding. Gradually, she worked the way father down the length of my prick, taking her time about it and obviously getting enjoyment from the feel of me in her mouth. Looking at her eyes, I could see smile wrinkles.

I felt the head of my cock bump the back of her throat. Without missing a beat, she shifted position and the obstruction disappeared. The hand she'd been using to jack me was out of the picture now; her mouth was doing it all. When I felt my balls slap her chin, she sped up, groaning, the vibrations going straight to my root and on into my center. She grabbed my hips, ramming herself in and out along my cock. Suddenly I could not hold back.

"ARRGH! Ohmigod, I'm cumming!"

My cock started to jerk as my hips obeyed thousands of years of primal instinct, trying to bury my dick into her hot, willing mouth like it was her cunt. I felt a finger probe at my anus and slip inside, touching something.

My cock exploded like a volcano erupting, cum-lava geysering out to coat her waiting mouth. Ramming forward, I shot more juice down her throat. As my prick collapsed, my strength went with it and I fell to my knees. I'd have fallen on my face if Deirdre hadn't moved to catch me. My head spinning with previously unexperienced pleasure, I faded to black.

When I came to, Deirdre was sitting up on the bed next to me. The fire she had started in the fireplace crackled as the flames took hold. We were both unclothed and the fire threw the only light in the room.

"That's how a woman who loves her man should greet him after a hard day's work," she said. "She should do something she knows will please him, to let him know his work is appreciated."

"Please me like that every day, and you'll have to shake me out and hang me up to dry before I can get out of bed in the morning." She laughed delightedly.

"Then I'll have to pace myself, I guess. But know this, my very dear. Any time you want me, take me; any way you like. I want you to be happy, in and out of the bedroom. That is my job as your woman."

She snuggled into my arms and we lay there in the bed, simply watching the fire, sated for the present. I loved the feel of her against me, a feeling of security and certainty of belonging that was still new to me. I sank into a dreamless sleep, my love in my arms, confident that I'd find her there in the morning.

She cooked breakfast the next morning, muttering that it was too early to be awake. I pointed out that for me, work started at 7 AM and having been away for a couple of weeks, even though I was the boss there were still things that had to get done. I'd probably be late getting home.

"But you will call, right?"

"Yes, baby, I'll call. I may stop for a haircut on my way home. I have to look good for you from now on." Deirdre kissed my cheek and slipped onto my lap, purring as my hands wandered over her body.

"Mmmmm. I'll be missing that, John. I love the feel of your hands on me. Don't let the paperwork keep you too late, okay?"

"I won't," I promised, kissing her lightly. "Do you have anything in mind for today?"

"Well, first I'm going to go back to bed for a bit. You wear a girl out, darling! When I get back up, I'm going to go online and start looking for work. I want to pull my own weight. I'll put together a résumé and post it, and we'll see what we see."

"And after I get home, we can go out or stay in, as you wish. Later, baby." And I left, for the first time in a long while more eager to return home than to go off to work.

As with the first day back after any break of more than a couple of days, there was a pile of paperwork waiting for me. What with one thing and another, I thought, looking glumly at the full in-box, I wouldn't be able to get my hands dirty for at least three or four days. I sighed and set to work, welcoming the interruptions of my boys stopping in to say hello and welcome me back, Emily bringing in a mug of JM Rocket Fuel (our nickname for her high-octane coffee), and phone calls from contractors asking if we'd be interested on bidding for projects. I ate lunch at my desk and left when Emily did at five o'clock, the in-basket mountain reduced to a large hill. It was a good first day back; and I smiled at the thought of who was waiting for me at home.

As I'd said I would, I stopped at Antony's Unisex Hair Salon. Antony is a character. He came to America in the early '70s after he finished his compulsory military service in the Italian Army, saved up his money and after a few years opened his own place, which was an almost instant success. His salon is something of an anomaly for a couple of reasons.

First, it's a co-ed operation. This is unusual in a part of the world where the norms are a barbershop for the men and a beauty shop for the women, with each a very exclusive preserve for one (and only one) gender.

Second, Antony spends more of his time styling women's hair than he does giving haircuts; he has female stylists who do that. Most guys raised outside a city won't trust a gal to give them a 'proper' haircut. The ones who patronize Antony's know better. The chauvinists don't know what they're missing.

Third, by local standards his shop is considered the new hair joint in town. By this, I mean he's a first generation owner. Here in the South, tonsorial establishments normally pass from father to son or mother to daughter. It's not unheard-of for the great-grandson of the founder to be cutting the hair of the great-grandchildren of Great-Grandpa's customers.

Finally, Antony flirts shamelessly with his lady clients, but their husbands don't mind. Flirting with the ladies may be something programmed into his genetic code, but the ladies eat it up with a spoon. He encourages his stylists to flirt with the men as well; it must be good for business. Besides, everyone knows that although he may be the biggest tactophile in town, he is absolutely devoted to his wife and their three kids. Perhaps that's why the ladies don't take him seriously when he lays it on with a trowel.

To my surprise, Antony waved me into a barber's chair and tied a drape around my neck himself after drawing me a cappuccino from his coffee bar, a little courtesy he maintains for his customers. Although he's open from 6 AM to 8 PM to accommodate folks on their way to and from work, it wasn't usual for him to be manning the place by himself at this hour. He usually has at least one lady stylist on with him. I looked over at the chair where Donna Jean usually did my hair. All her little knickknacks and vacation photos were gone. Her station was bare.

"What happened to Donna Jean?" I asked as he fired up his clippers.

"Ahh, she went an' got herself married," he said sourly. "You know that soldier-boy she's been dating? Well, he got orders to Germany an' she ran off wit' him. That leaves me down one stylist. An' where I'll find someone as good to take her place, I don' know."

"Are you seriously looking for somebody, Antony?"