The Touch Ch. 11

"Oh! God, yes!" She screamed, "Make me cum .... I want to cum again!"

I rammed into her, harder and faster, and she met each of my thrusts with one of her own, crying out in little yelps each time that my groin crashed against her buttocks I was almost at the point that I would be able to hold back no longer, I knew that I was going to shoot my load at any second, but was trying hard to wait for Debbie. I was jerking frantically, my release was just a few thrusts away, then suddenly her whole body was shuddering and she was screaming and laughing at the same time.

"Oh, Fuck! Oh, Bloody Fuck! Yes! Oh, Yes!" Her arms gave out and she collapsed forward as I finally let go and jettisoned my load into her as her forward movement dragged her off of my erection, the final spurt of jiz spraying over her back. My prick felt wrung out and my balls ached from banging against her buttocks.

Debbie collapsed flat onto the softness of the packing and towels, arms and legs akimbo and I let myself fall gently forward on top of her, my face in her hair and my softening prick nesting neatly between her buttocks.

She was breathing very heavily and I stroked her hair and whispered in her ear, "Are you OK, Debs?"

It was several seconds before she replied. "OK? ....... I'm fucking marvellous! That was the most intensive orgasm, ever!"

"That's what you said last time!" I joked. We both laughed. "Am I crushing you?" I asked her.

"Not really," she chuckled, "But if you don't move soon I shall stop breathing and my tits will be like two fried eggs ...... Oh! And you had better take that prick of yours from between my bum cheeks," she added with a giggle, "We need to save something new for another night, eh!"

We crept back downstairs to the staff room and surveyed the wreckage. The leg of the table had just worked free of the screws and I knew I could fix it easily in the morning. We got dressed and I stuffed the sex stained towels into my duffle bag to take home and wash. The clock on the wall told me that it was almost eight-thirty.

"Do you want to go for something to eat, Debs?" I asked. I felt shagged out, drained and very hungry.

"God, Yes!" she answered, "I'm bloody starving!"

I had not brought the Vespa into work that day, so we took Debbie's Mini and drove out to 'The Funky Chicken' restaurant. It was a American style roadside diner run by a real weirdo, who called himself Dillon and was some sort of left over hippy from the 70's, but he served the best Kentucky chicken, burgers and steaks in the county. We sat in one of the side booths, beneath a large Confederate flag, and laughed and joked whilst eating our chicken and chips. Debbie had stuffed a piece of the bubble wrap into her pocket and kept popping the bubbles which drew a bit of attention from other customers but only we knew what the joke was. I really liked Debbie, she was always fun to be with and we fucked together fantastically, but mostly I was just glad we were real friends.

Debbie dropped me off at home just after ten. Mum was sitting on the settee watching the news on television, so I quietly went upstairs to the bathroom and stuffed the towels into the bottom of the washing basket beneath my dirty work clothes. If Mum got to the washing before I did, I didn't think she would realise what the stains really were, but I made mental note to put the washing machine on before leaving in the morning.