Marty-Always Smiling

Thankfully, that loosened her up just enough to keep me from cumming as I steadily pounded to lengthen her orgasm. As she wound down, but never coming out of her, I scooted beneath her as she rared up to assume a woman-atop-man-facing-away position. She was so adept at sensing what I was doing that she always moved in perfect harmony to the next position. Not many people can do that.

In this position, I could see once again her lovely hourglass shape, only from the back side for the first time. Sitting perfectly straight up with her soft lower legs alongside my torso, I massaged the bottoms of her feet while she fucked me steadily up and down--not too fast, not too slow.

Marty's back was a work of art, but it was interrupted by the bra strap, so I decided to unhook it, and as it popped free, she pulled the straps from her shoulders. I leaned forward to rub the strap lines on her back and could tell she was doing the same, massaging the pent-up feeling from her breasts out of my line of sight. I enjoyed her bare back and buns plopping against my hips for a while longer and was just thinking how I'd turn her around to face me, when she did so her self. Turning to her left, she placed her right leg over the top of and to the left of my two outstretched legs, then spun around in one smooth motion with her bent left leg over the top of my stomach to fully face me.

There was Marty's lovely green eyes again, and ohmygod, her bare breasts!!! What a set of knockers--big, pendulous, and heaving over her skinny waist. I reached up and grasped them from below, lifted them up, then let them fall down. They bounced so nicely. Just filling my large hands, I squeezed them together and pulled them apart over and again. Then I just watched them sway for 10 minutes as she glided up and down my cock with the world's wettest pussy.

Sensing what I wanted next, she leaned forward to place them squarely in my face, and I buried it between her deep, soft cleavage as she pressed them together with her hands from the side. I suckled them like a newborn babe, one side then the other, back and forth, perking the already hard nipples out even further. Marty was smiling, just like she always was. My hands firmly around her orbs, we French-kissed forever before I went back to her boobs to rattle my cheeks between them, then suck and nibble them still more. More than a mouthful is a waste, eh? And what a waste! And, just below them, what a waist!

But the clock from the other room chimed 10 times, and there was more serious fucking to do, so I spun her back away from me, and pulled her up into the doggie-style position. "This is the way I like it best," said Marty. "I know; that's why I have you this way," I assured her. She arched her back, rared her bottom high, and I pounded away like it was the last fuck I'd ever have.

Every few minutes, seeing her tits dangling so alluringly down, I could not help but reach around to fondle them. I would fuck her just shy of making her cum, then suddenly slow down, only to gradually build up the pace to re-enact the crime. I don't know how many times I did this, but the sounds she was making during it all made those on the tape seem tame by comparison.

But the scenario I had inadvertently put myself in was that I was not going to be able to cum in her. A man can increase his ejaculation threshold to the point that he's just not going to spray, and that's just what I had done, so, still fixated on her tits and sucking prowess, I devised a plan: I would fuck her next cycle until she started to cum, then pull out, vibrate my finger on her clit as earlier until she came all the way, and, in the demitasse cup I'd spotted on the bedside table, catch the spurting pussy juice, which I'd use for lubrication, as you'll see. And so I carried out the plan.

She came like I've never seen a woman before or since, gushed like Old Faithful, and filled the little cup to overflowing.

I pulled her over to sit towards me on the edge of the bed and, full cup in hand, stood on the floor in front of her to explain what I wanted to do. "Marty, I want you to squeeze your breasts tightly together with your hands from the sides, careful not to cover your nipples, then I'm going to pour this cup of your warm pussy juice all over and between them for lubrication and titty-fuck you for a little while. When I give you the signal..." "I'll suck you until you cum," she finished.

The lady was a sexual mind-reader! And so we did just that. Let me tell you, the sight and sensation of my dick plunging up and down through her cleavage all slippery with her very own pussy juice as she manipulated her tits up and down was unbelievable. And then, even better than I expected, she proved to be able to gobble my full length into her mouth as my balls slid up through her boobs, then continue to suck the end of it as I pulled it down through her cleavage. My cum threshold was so high, I really was wondering there for a while if I was going to spurt, but I finally did, erupting in an orgasm to end all orgasms.

Naturally, she drank down every drop, looked up smiling, just like she always was, and the clock chimed 11:00.

We continued to meet from time to time at her house for more, lengthy sexual interludes over the next 3 or 4 months. Marty always seemed to arrange the schedule so that I never did meet her daughter. We broke off the sex in Spring when I met the woman I would eventually marry, but I continued to do the occasional house repair for her.

In a case of it-really-is-a-small-world, it turns out that my girlfriend knew Marty's son, Scott, where she had worked with him back during college at a local department store. A few years younger than us, he was a very handsome and cultured fellow, to whom one of my girlfriend's co-worker girlfriends was attracted. To say Bonita was sexually aggressive would be a gross understatement, and so, knowing he was a great dancer, she asked Scott out for a dinner-and-dancing date, then, of course, fuck like rabbits back at her place.

Well, her new place was the walk-up apartment immediately behind my girlfriend's, just across the alley from where I parked my car. I'd noticed Scott's car back there earlier in the evening, so I figured that was their date night, and when I left to go home, I spotted him speeding down the alley like he'd just seen the boogie man. He didn't even wave.

Then I heard Bonita screaming down from the top of the stairs. She was completely naked, and big-eyed, petite thing that she was with dark pointy nips protruding from her firm little ta-tas, she looked terrific! "Scott's a goddamned faggot, gay as a fucking blade!!!" she screeched. "I need a hard cock, like right now!" If ever there was a sure-thing lay, this was it, but, being the faithful boyfriend, I held my dick in check but not my laughter and she recounted the evening:

They'd had a great dinner and wonderful dancing—she paid for everything—and she was ready to fuck the moment they got back to her apartment. So, before even closing the door, she pushed the straps off her little black dress and let it fall to the floor--revealing her bodacious, panty-less little body to him—and proceeded to undress and kiss him on down to his cock, which she said remained soft despite her vigorous sucking. He finally admitted he was gay, grabbed his clothes, and literally ran with terror out to his car.

Though I found this hilarious, I nevertheless felt sorry for Bonita, so I called my best buddy, who had the hots for her, and told him to get there ASAP. He was in Medical School, and, despite having just finished a 24-hour shift in the ER, got there in 10 minutes and fucked her until daybreak. He later told me what an excellent and uninhibited lover she was—she loved to suck dick very aggressively--and thenceforth we slightly altered her first name to "Bone-eater!"

Anyway, to conclude the main story:

Marty had some tenants who totally trashed one of the houses I had fixed up for her immediately before they moved in, and their deposit didn't begin to cover the repairs, so she sued and asked me to appear in court as the key witness, since I was the only person other than she who could testify as to the condition of the house. I agreed and appeared at the courthouse for several days in a row, but the tenant's attorney played the stall game and got continuance after continuance.

On the day the case finally went before the judge, it was the very day of my final oral exams for my Masters degree--the last day I could take them--so I absolutely could not appear as a witness, and Marty knew my orals were that day, but she said she'd have subpoenas issued to force me to appear anyway.

So, to dodge the inevitable process server, I left home at 4 in the morning and hid out in a secluded spot in the library to study for the orals and didn't show up until the exact scheduled time for the 3-professor oral exam panel. As I walked in, the secretary handed me the subpoena, which I simply slipped into my shirt pocket. I passed the orals and got the MBA with high honors.

I called Marty the next day to see how the case came out; she lost and was incensed with me. Mad as hell, she hung up in my face, and I never saw or spoke with her again. For perhaps the first time, Marty was not smiling, and I've always thought it ironic that it was my "orals," the very thing she was so good at, that ended our relationship.