Parting Shot

It took her a moment to realize that Paul had stopped playing with her boobs. He seemed a little intimidated, like he'd taken her request for patience as a criticism. Perhaps he thought she was telling him that he'd been coming on too strong? She knew just how to clear that up.

With a frisky smile, she slipped her hand behind Paul's head and pulled it deep into her left breast. Righty had been getting all the attention lately, so now it was her sister's turn. Paul began ravaging the supple pillow immediately. His free hand soon found its way there, too and cupped and fondled her tit while he kissed and suckled it.

"Mmm... Yeah!" Marcy moaned in encouragement. His passionate manipulations made every nerve ending in her tit feel alive... and *horny*; really fucking horny.

As if that weren't enough, Paul had begun changing things up on her labia and clit since she had asked him to persevere with the masturbation. It was only some subtle changes to the way he rubbed her, but it was enough to make things interesting and more exciting.

Marcy relished this: not just the physical stimulation, but being in bed with a guy who was so attentive for a change.

She normally gave it up for macho guys; the kind of guys who pressed her for sex, rather than ones she personally seduced. Certainly, she had had plenty of fun with that kind of lover, but that take-charge persona also typically made them quite selfish. Once they were in bed, it became all about them; their pleasure; their dominance. Marcy was adept enough at the game to get off more often than not. But too often, it was a battle to make sure she got what she wanted out of it. Sometimes it frustrated her how much sex could feel like work. Not tonight, though. Paul was only too eager to please and judging by that hard-on, he was exercising no small amount of patience. It felt wonderful to just have a guy give her what she needed, especially after a night like tonight. 'Nice guys' were clearly a resource she needed to take a greater interest in.

Paul's fingers were utterly drenched by this point. Yet they continued to massage her privates and slather them with her juices without any sense of tiring. Marcy's heart was pounding like a drum. She was so turned on! She felt like any moment now she could...

ZAP! There it was! A harsh spasm in her lower back as a veritable bonfire roared to life in her womb. Soon after, other places all over her body began to twitch and seize, as if she had an ecstasy gremlin crawling around inside her.

"Mmmmmm..." she softly moaned while biting her lip.

Paul responded to the change in her body language by honing in on her clit. The spiralling cycle of his masturbation tightened and accelerated around it. It was a shower of constant, compelling contact, with no reprieve in sight for her vulnerable little nub.

Her body had turned to jelly. The random spasms had given way to an increasingly violent tremble that shook her from head to toe. She was coming, long and hard.

"Uh... Uh... Uh..." she quietly winced, her subtlety belying the gravity of her orgasm.

She held Paul firmly to her bosom, only to keep herself from collapsing. Paul, caught up in the excitement of the moment, had stopped suckling her and was now just panting his hot, lusty breath over the surface of her breast.

Marcy sizzled upon Paul's exquisite touch until she could stand it no more.

"Okay!" she declared. She tried weakly to withdraw her hips from his reach, but she couldn't move them well, so instead she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his hand off her. "Okay! Okay!" she repeated absently.

She felt amazing, but she wasn't finished yet. It only took a couple of seconds for the sensation to dwindle just enough for her to regain her wits. As soon as that happened, she decided she wanted another round of that searing pleasure; immediately. Her flesh was weak, but her spirit was itching for the thrill of multiple orgasms.

"That's enough," she panted. "Fuck me!"

"Now?" Paul checked, perhaps to avoid getting his hopes up prematurely.

"Now!" Marcy confirmed. She dove upon him gracefully but forcefully and planted a messy, passion-filled kiss upon his lips. The kiss was so forceful that she pushed his head right in to the headboard of the bed, which it struck with a loud 'thump!' If it hurt, Paul didn't let on.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Marcy babbled between kisses. Her voice was breathless and dainty, yet it was so insistent it almost gave the impression that she would hurt him if he refused.

She pressed her crotch against him and tried to mount him, while Paul tried to help by maneuvering his hips. But they were distracted by the passionate kissing and their efforts were clumsy and ineffective. Just when it looked like they were about to succeed, Marcy had a revelation.

"Wait. Get under the covers. It's a lot easier to do it before," she suggested.

"Good point," Paul nodded.

They scrambled to insert themselves beneath the covers as fast as they could, returning to virtually the same position they'd originally been in, albeit with a bedsheet now covering everything south of Marcy's lower back. This time, she wasn't willing to put up with any delays in getting his cock in to her womanhood. She held it steady with her hand while she carefully lowered her opening on to it. They blissfully sighed in unison as his thick shaft completely filled the sensitive space inside her.

Marcy began grinding away almost immediately, pivoting and shifting her hips in an almost poetic cycle that offered her a nice, long range of penetration. It was sheer heaven, feeling that hard, manly tool thrusting inside her. She needed it badly, after that masturbation had gotten her depths so hot and wet, yet left them starving for some direct stimulation.

She braced herself against the headboard of the bed, leaning over her submissive partner as her hips continued dancing for both their pleasure. They kissed three more times; sloppy, careless expressions of their piqued sexuality. Then they all but lost interest in everything apart from the activity between their genitals. Paul lifted his hands to fondle her boobs for a little while, but even they couldn't hold his attention for very long and his hands soon dropped down to her hips and ass to weakly guide her movements.

Marcy kept her pace, neither accelerating nor slowing her carnal heaves. She didn't want to build up to a frenzied, jackhammer-like pounding tonight, she just wanted more of the same. For even though the motions were repetitive, each thrust of Paul's cock was sweeter than the last.

Her body was on autopilot; her mind had let go amidst the heady ecstasy of it all. She had no worries here; Brad and Joe didn't exist in this moment, so she could hardly have problems with them. No regrets, no consequences, no insecurities. There was only that giddy sense of arousal all throughout her body and that thick column of manhood pumping against her center. All the tension from the day's events that she had kept tied up in her belly had evaporated away, as if Paul had masterfully massaged it out of her from inside.

After a while, that familiar shiver came over her for the second time. She felt herself losing control; felt her muscles succumbing one by one to the fitful paralysis of orgasm. But Marcy powered through the difficulty and kept thrusting, determined to ride out that climax for every sweet twitch of pleasure she could get.

Her nether regions couldn't take it anymore, and went off like the 4th of July. She didn't even realize as her arms buckled beneath her and she collapsed on to the hairy, toned chest beneath her. The pattern of soft, feminine grunts she'd been making quickly devolved into a set of erratic gasps.

To her shock, the cock in her pussy didn't stop shifting once her hips fell still; her lover was still bucking his hips away against her. She couldn't stand it! The penetration was too agonizingly exquisite! She wanted to scream at him, but half of her would've begged him to stop and the other half would've begged him not to. In her confusion, she said nothing at all and simply laid in his arms, completely helpless. It was unbearable. It was fantastic.

By the time she came to, all was still, apart from the irregular rise and fall caused by her and Paul's asynchronous breathing. She was limp, spent and numb. The resonant echo of post-coital bliss carried her like a raft on still waters. All she knew was that she was 100% satisfied.

She soon deduced that Paul must've cum as well, or else he would still be pounding her. She hoped it was as spectacular for him as it had been for her.

"D'ya like that?" she sighed in a sugary voice.

"Fuck, Marcy! That was... the best moment... of my life," Paul panted.

"Mmm... great," Marcy mumbled indifferently. She hadn't really paid attention to the answer.

She was so drowsy...

---------

It must've been a dream. That was the only explanation. Shit as unbelievable as this only ever happened in dreams.

Little more than 24 hours ago, Paul had been on track to finally score with the girl he'd been in love with since month one of junior high. Despite all the game-planning and self-consciousness, it was in essence, a simple state of affairs.

But in the intervening day, *everything* had changed.

The truly weird part about all of this was that right now, things were even simpler. They shouldn't have been, but they were.

He was in bed. There was a naked woman on top of him. They'd just had sex; phenomenal sex. His sperm was in her vagina. That was all that mattered.

He wasn't completely oblivious to the staggering minutiae of the situation. They were lingering somewhere in the distant reaches of his mind, tangled up in one big knot of confusion and doubt. But it was all a trifle. Life was too perfect to fret about such trivial things.

There was a naked woman pressed against him at this very moment; no clothing, no 'protection', no margin of separation. Nothing but skin-against-skin, from the nose pressing into his cheek to the ankle crossed against his own.

Paul had seen dozens of naked girls before, certainly. Being a red-blooded guy, he'd watched his share of porn and skimmed his share of girlie magazines. He'd seen the odd wasted girl 'take it off' at a party, been dragged off to a strip club a couple times and even walked in on some friends when they were getting lucky. But he realized now that there was a world of difference between looking at one of those seductive, curvaceous forms and feeling the warmth, the suppleness of a woman for real. If he'd been asked at that moment to describe what it was like laying beneath a naked 21-year old coed, he wouldn't have had the words .

What a woman she was, too! Wet dreams and genetic engineering put together would struggle to create such a superb example of womanhood.

Kathy had it made in terms of face, body and personality; she was truly a dream. But if he took the love-goggles off, Paul had to admit that Marcy had it all over Kathy in terms of sex appeal. Her face was just as beautiful and her body was stunning. She was taller, her legs were longer, her tits were much larger and perkier and her ass was tighter.

Paul had strong feelings for Kathy in his heart. But as a virile male animal, which was all he was right now, he was delighted that he was lying here with Marcy instead. As far as his biological urges were concerned, it was like booking a plane seat in coach and being unexpectedly upgraded to first class right before take-off.

Being with Marcy was completely satisfying. Right now, Paul wanted for nothing and he couldn't remember a time since his youngest days when a moment had been so perfect.

Screwing her had truly been a gift; a wonderful, precious gift. Losing his virginity to her on the beach had been a powerful, profound experience. But even that couldn't hold a candle to what had just happened here, in the privacy of his own bedroom.

There were no theatrical aspects to it this time; they weren't putting on a show for Brad. This time, the act was completely natural, completely genuine. He got to discover what Marcy was really like as a lover. As if it weren't enough that she'd been blessed with incredible looks and irresistible charisma, she also had enough sexual passion cooped up in that slender, hourglass figure to completely ruin a man.

She was a sex machine. There was no other way to describe the way she rode him. Her hips had been practically industrial with their perfect, consistent timing, their tirelessness, their unwavering and singular sense of purpose. He knew she would never stop until the deed was done; she was clearly too devoted a servant when she was doing nature's bidding to let anything disrupt her.

That perfection was truly something to behold. To have that velvety pussy squeezing and rubbing his dick from every angle non-stop, to have that gorgeous bush combing so intimately through his own curly thatch over and over again had been hotter than anything he could've imagined. With every motion she persuaded him that she was the ideal mate. No wonder it had been so inarguably satisfying to blast his seed into her nether regions.

Even now, well after that mind-blowing exchange, Marcy was still making Paul swoon. She may have been passed out, but her radiant femininity was as potent as ever.

He took a deep breath and lost himself in her wonderful scent. He didn't know what it was, a shampoo, a lotion, a perfume? She smelled like the best of summer. It was the smell of a warm breeze that had collected subtle hints of all the local plants, combined with that first breath of sea air when you get out of the car during the season's first trip to the beach.

A long tendril of her hair had come to rest against the left side of his face. It tickled him there like a fly crawling over him and normally he would've brushed away anything that irritated him so. But because even that length of hair was part of the woman, Paul found serenity and happiness in its provocative touch.

He became aware of his hands, one on Marcy's upper back, the other on her velvety ass cheek. As they shifted ever so softly, he contemplated the flawlessness of the warm skin beneath them. He opened his eyes. It wasn't much of a view; nothing but an extreme close-up of shoulder. But even just admiring Marcy's lightly tanned shoulder was enough of a visual cue to remind him just how flawless the whole woman was.

He noticed the hot cushions splayed out upon his pecks; the effect of their softness being sandwiched between two firm bodies. The heat he felt upon his nipples was incredible. He couldn't actually see Marcy's breasts right now, but he had a very precise mental image to muse upon instead.

Damn, those tits... they were a life-changing experience all by themselves. He knew the memory of them would plague his dreams for the rest of his life. They were truly fruit for the gods; each one a banquet of pure carnal luxury. If he buried his face in them, he suspected that even the prospect of suffocating wouldn't be able to wrench him back out.

He slipped one hand down a little, and pressed his thumb deep into the swell of her sideboob. The way it yielded in response made him melt. This *had* to be a dream. Laying there with something so perfect was just too good to be real.

Marcy didn't react at all to Paul's little experiment. She was well and truly zonked out. He decided to push his luck by giving her ass cheek a not-so-subtle squeeze. Still no reaction, but holy crap that cute little bulge was tight!

In hindsight, it was inevitable that all that musing over Marcy's body would eventually provoke a physical reaction. Paul was surprised his cock had the energy to stand up again. The rest of his body was as limp as a sponge and that last party felt like it had drained his balls of all the sperm they could offer.

Nonetheless, Paul felt the smooth skin of Marcy's thigh brushing over his cockhead as his organ stiffened and rose. The harder he got, the more he enjoyed it. If there was one thing better than laying beneath a gorgeous naked woman, it was laying beneath a gorgeous naked woman and feeling like a man who had the hutzpah to get the job done.

When his cock was fully upright, he patiently moved his hips so that it pressed against Marcy's labia. He relished the sensation of having her sweet pussy kissing his rod once again.

But it didn't take long for that frisky contentment to become a gnawing desire. It was only then that Paul began to consider what he was going to do next.

It wasn't like that boner was going to go away by itself. A hard-on was difficult enough to calm down at the best of times. With a naked woman lying on top of him, he had no chance! There was no question about it; he needed to get off.

Of course, the lovely pussy positioned right next to his own organ was the first thing he thought of. Having it so close when he needed it almost seemed like fate. Marcy was dead to the world, if he was gentle, he could probably screw her again without her even waking up.

His body was saying, "Yes! Yes! Yes!", but his conscience was saying something different. Taking advantage of her while she was asleep felt wrong. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it just did.

He tried to rationalize his discomfort away by noting that the sex they'd already had tonight proved that Marcy had no problem with him fucking her. Except, she had been awake for those other two encounters; she had been able to consent. Now she was passed out and it was less a case of 'two consenting adults' and more a case of him exploiting her vulnerability and trust.

He pondered what her reaction might be if she *did* wake up in the middle of it. Would she be in to it? Or would it come as a rude shock?

Then Paul remembered what had happened to her earlier in the night; how appalled she'd been when Joe and Brad had made that bet over which of them would get to fuck her. They basically treated her like she was just a sex toy they could use at their convenience.

Was what he was considering right now any better?

He instantly felt ashamed for even thinking about screwing Marcy while she slept. He wanted to do it; God, how he wanted to do it! But it wouldn't have been fair to her.

All the same, something had to be done about that boner. He needed to get off and if he kept it pressed against that soft pussy much longer he was liable to give in to the temptation. With a frustrated huff, Paul set about pushing Marcy off to one side.

The devil on his shoulder hurled scathing abuse at him, "Are you fucking kidding me? You've got a hard-on, the hottest babe you've ever laid eyes on is laying on top of you, and you're pushing her away so you can jerk off? You must be fucking insane!" But Paul was resolute.

He tried to be as gentle as possible at first, not wanting to wake her. The trickiest part was trying to roll her hips off of his when he had a towering hunk of meat lodged between her thighs, essentially locking her in place. Eventually, the chore became so frustrating that he gave subtlety away and hefted her left thigh up far enough for him to be able to roll his dick out from under her. He half expected the harsh jostling of his efforts to wake her up, but Marcy remained dead to the world.

As soon as Marcy was clear, he rolled away from her and immediately began masturbating like crazy. Normally, he would savor the ride a bit, but tonight he just needed to cum as soon as possible.

He kept his back pressed against her as he did it. He couldn't see what parts of her had connected with him; he guessed it was probably just her shoulder, hip and lower leg. But the mere fact that a gorgeous naked woman was touching him at all gave him a pleasant rush.

He couldn't see her, so he pictured her in his mind's eye instead. He thought about that thick bush of chestnut hair cupped between the shapely creases of her crotch; so feminine, so mature. He thought about those large, heaving breasts, so soft and delicious, with their tiny, dark little nipples.