A Fucking Investment Ch. 08

Samantha felt me hitching backwards. She lurched towards me, bending her head more extremely. She managed to get just the tips of her fingers onto the back of my thigh. She pulled against my thigh, clearly indicating she wished me to remain buried in her mouth. I lost all my options the instant her throat closed on my cock next. I felt her breath, hot my thighs. I erupted.

The woman swallowed and grunted, sucking and slurping even as the flow exceeded her ability to consume it. She swallowed and swallowed around my cock as I pumped load after load of cum into her gurgling mouth. When she pushed at my thigh, I backed out of her mouth, withdrawing my cock like a sword from a circus act's throat. I expected her to cough and choke but she just lay with her head dangling off the edge of the bed. She continued to swallow and lick and suck at the cum bubbling around her teeth.

Her eyes opened. They shown with intensity.

I was staggered by the orgasm. I slipped to my knees beside her prone body. One of her hands found my shoulder and hooked there, as though unable to make any other motion. We lay there together panting for a while.

"Good god," she muttered finally, "I never did it like that. I think if you touched me I'd have come!"

"Sorry." I muttered, lifting my head to look at her. She turned her head and finally twisted onto her tummy to peer down off the bed at my cock. It remained hard as imagination can make it.

"My god, boy, you are still hard. Now what?"

I lifted my head and looked down my body. By god, she was right. I was hard. I think the orgasm blew my fuses but the recovery crew was getting the lights back on. I was rebooting. I realized in a minute that I wanted a little more of Vicky Vice. I realized I'd spelled it with a 'C' but it might well have been vise with an "S". My god the woman was tight!

I struggled to my feet. I rolled Sam onto her back and dragged her head to the right end of the bed. She made no move to help, letting me move her around like the bit of stuff that she was. Her knees lolled open. I got between them. She lay with her hands over her head, eyes on me as I loomed over her supine body. I felt between her legs till I found her opening, lowered my cock head, fitted it inside her and thrust down.

Samantha groaned deeply. Her body bucked under me.

"Jesus, fuck me!"

I grunted. "You'll have to settle for me and mine." I lifted up between her legs and slammed down onto her and into her. She groaned again. Her body clinched around my cock, her little pussy rippled like an angry crowd around my invading cock. Her legs lifted and clipped her body onto me. When I rose the next time, she rose under me, clinging to me like a vise. Her pussy held my cock inside her. She rippled around me and I swear I felt each individual muscle passing each sensation from one to the next inside her. I ground down into her and she hissed under me, her face far below mine. Her hands reached up and grabbed onto my shoulders. She thrust her hips up at me, spiking herself onto my cock.

Up I rose and slammed her whole body down onto the bed, gaining only a little greater penetration each time. She seemed completely stretched tight onto my cock but each time, I seemed to inch a bit deeper. Her body accommodated me, stretching as I thrust into her. Her hips found their own rhythm and she rocked under me, punching up at me.

Finally, after minutes of this, she began to scream. Panting, her voice came and went gapping and then resuming on the same note after it had vanished in a puff of gasping. Her tone rose and fell while I hammered down against her, pounding her against the bed over and over again. Lifting her clinging body, feeling her wrap her muscles around my cock and hold on as she rose off the bed and then tensed as I slammed her down once more. A moment of relaxation followed only to be truncated by my lifting body and the new need to tense and hold on.

"Oh, oh, oh god, yes, fuck me harder!" She cried, her voice warbled with tension and lust. Her hands turned to grappling hooks, latching us together. I began to lose steam and instead of pounding down, I was just dropping onto her. The bed rebelled, bouncing her back up at me, which only served to affix her more fully onto my cock. She felt like a hood ornament on a Cadillac. I thumped her onto the bed, enjoying the feeling of her body's reaction, etched onto the surface of my stone hard cock.

She grunted and grunted and then her legs and arms released. Her body arched under me. Her head turned and she screamed till it garbled out into a panting gasp. Her hips dropped then bucked up at me, hammering herself onto my cock. I felt the limit of her pussy, stretched and twitching, chewing my cock with its toothless jaws.

I lay over her while her body shifted and bucked. I lay down on her after a few moments, blanketing her. I moved my hands down to her tight little ass. I clasped it hard and she keened against my chest. Her knees lifted beside me, scraping along my sides and then clinching against me. I pulled her hard up onto my cock. The response summoned the wind. It blew through me and I felt her coming again, bucking and wheezing, seeking air whenever the fluttering pleasure relented. Over and over she pulsed around my cock. The sensations rippled out from our point of joining, skittering along my skin and pulsing through my bones.

When my orgasm arrived, hers redoubled. She could no longer lift her legs. I rabbit fucked her. Her pussy clinched down but feebly and her hips lifted, no longer able to meet thrust with thrust. Her lean body lifted and opened, gulping my cock down like it was liquid. She gasped, she panted, she hissed. The liquid came. I poured into her supine body. I swear it drank my cum gulping at my cock and pulling at it inside of her pussy with all due respect.

I fluttered to a stop, pandering to the urge to keep going but unable to do so. I could not help but drape over her.

"Uh, uh, heavy!" She whispered. She tried to move me but it was like paint moving a wall. I got to my elbows, bent a knee under me and tipped to the side onto my back. I don't remember pulling my cock out of her or the sensation. I was darkened with exhaustion. I closed my eyes and the moment ended.

She woke me with her mouth. I vaguely remembered being cleaned, that warm comfortable sensation of delicate fingers holding my languid cock and the fabulous feeling of a warm, soft wash cloth dabbing the crusties away and then the enveloping warmth that, in my dull lassitude, thought to be a new cloth, cleaner but steamed and hot. The suction itself pulled me to consciousness.

"Mouth." I muttered, rising out of sleep to the conscious awareness that someone was sucking my cock. A nice way to wake up. Nice? Did I think, nice? Funny how you have to be awake to find and use the right superlative. It is a function of deliberate ecstasy to label something fantastic or splendid or wondiferous.

Just like that, I was awake. I wanted the right word to describe the fellatio happening to me. It happens to you, right? You don't participate when she is blowing you, right? It occurs and you are passive.

The mouth of my dreams sank down my cock and held. I felt the puff of hot breath on my body. I came aware of her body, slender and steaming between my legs, her spindle arms around my thighs, holding on while she bobbed her head up and down, except now she stopped, my cock lodged deep in her throat, her tongue tickling up and down the length of my now, very, very hard cock. It felt like glass, hard, smooth and utterly translucent, absorbing every little subtle sensation she transmitted to me with her mouth, lips and tongue. It was otherworldly.

With a loud slurp, she lifted her head, pulling my cock out of her mouth and got to her knees in the gloom. The bathroom light was off. Only the ambient light of the street beyond cut lines and shadows into the darkness, a darkness populated with a nude woman intent on bring me to orgasm with her mouth.

No, I was wrong. She moved up my body, crouched over me. Her hand found my now useful cock and she directed it into the entrance to her body, heaven's gate that only the tiny few may enter properly.

She sank down onto me, her legs splayed wide over my hips. She sighed as I filled her and she enveloped me, the perfect collaboration. Her pussy walls rippled and contracted. If one thinks too hard, it might seem like they are trying to force this unwanted invader out, to regain control of the environment but no, I prefer another ideal. It is like a teen idol in a crowd, pressed from every side by those wanting to touch and gain pleasure, to offer every manner of favor and benefit to the single object of their desire. My cock was a pop star and her pussy was an adoring crowd. That sort of explains why famous people put up with being famous, it's like fucking.

She kissed me.

I fumbled for her name, thinking "she" constantly and realizing that I had been inside more women in the last few weeks than ever before in my life. I wondered if you ever stopped trying to name the woman fucking you and just classified the nature of their body engulfing your cock, teasing you out of an existential lethargy into the bright light of ecstasy where you can see nothing clearly but the point of life and that is to experience the pleasure of accomplishment. It is always an accomplishment to get a woman to climb up your body and mount your cock. It is a curious buzz of acceptance that acknowledges you have something to give them that they really, really want.

She groaned.

Vicky. I remembered her name.

"Vicky." I whispered. "Tight." I was close, sort of.

Her body stopped rocking over me.

"Oh, the rest of you is waking up. I had to go but I didn't think I should just slip out the back door. I came in the front door after all so I thought I'd come a little before I left. You don't mind a little dildo departure, do you?" She snickered.

"A what?" I asked stupidly, feeling stupid, wanting her hips to move again, wanting that luscious friction her madding crowd provided my narcissistic cock, that liquid adulation that poured out of her and smoothed the way for me to penetrate her body till she screamed with the ecstasy we both sought.

"Nevermind. Listen, Mr. Gale," she groaned.

I'd moved my hands up to her ass and pulled her down hard onto my cock while arching my back under her. She grunted and shifted. I moved her ass for her and she got the message and resumed riding me but slowly almost casually, perhaps carefully, like she had something on her mind and didn't want to forget it.

"I have something, I, uh, need to, uh, tell you." She wheezed. She bent over me, cradled my head and kissed me. My hand continued to move her, grinding her body down onto mine and then lifting my hips so she rose up, cinched down on me and then I held her up while I withdrew a half a length of cock. I arched under her again.

She broke the kiss and lay her head on my chest. "Oh god." She whispered. "Oh god."

Her ass began to clinch and tighten, popping up and back with unbelievable control. It was small but she was strong, firm of body and raunchy of soul. She rose up, lifting her torso like a rising plank. Her mop of frizzy hair swept over my face and the tendrils tickled and teased me. She balanced on her hands, planting them square on my chest. Her ass fought away my hands, moving faster and faster, much faster than I could move it on my own. She galloped after the elusive pleasure, panting and gasping as she drew near and then moaning with frustration when it eluded her.

I lifted under her, giving her the full benefit of my hard length. She gulped and grunted, redoubled her efforts and moments later, she screamed at the top of her voice that she was coming.

She came.

Her body bucked over me, shaking like frozen leaves when the wind comes after a fog froze in the air and coats everything. Her teeth rattled like those frozen leaves. Her legs clinched down on me, pinching my hip bones with her thighs while her ass ground us together over and over again. Her head bobbed up and down, passion convulsing her, a vague ripple in the darkness that I knew of with certainty because of the tantalizing tickle of her hair on my face and shoulders. I was a witness to her cavorting cataclysm, her bucking orgasm. I was a sex toy owned and operated by a private citizen in my own bed.

That all changed. I felt the surge of energy in me, like it had been infused by a karmic syringe, injecting the ecstasy straight into my body as though independent of her riding hips. It seemed to appear from some dark place beyond my kin and roar up into me. One moment she was thrashing alone, mounted on the convenient cock and the next I rolled her onto her back, bent her legs back over her shoulders and rammed that convenient cock deep into her body with all the weight gravity granted me.

She bucked under me, her voice caught up in a convulsion of pleased surprise at my sudden participation in her little ritual. Her living dildo had an agenda. I felt her thrill at suddenly feeling the bed on her back and my weight grinding down onto her bent body, piercing it with my hard cock. I released her legs and they drifted down my sides, while I gripped her little ass, barely affording enough room for both hands without clasping fingers like I was offering someone a foot up, except it was her ass in my hands. I pulled her up as I hammered down and she screamed into my chest. If she'd been taller I'd be reading lips now. As it was, I felt her wordless sound echo in my chest cavity, a sort of vibrating concussion that created space around all my organs. No space appeared around my cock, though.

She clinched down on me, locking her legs around my waist, still too short to knot completely so she just tightened them like she was a saddle riding me but I was on top of her so that's backwards a little. I plunged down into her over and over again and she bucked each time I rooted deep into her body and ground us together, pulling her little body onto my cock with fierce conviction, convinced she would not come apart no matter how hard I pummeled her.

"Oh my fucking god!" She cried out, the first intelligible words she'd managed in a while. "Fuck me, Gale, fuck me!" She wailed.

I did my best.

I was just beginning to feel pride at my ability to elicit this level of response from this sexual woman when my own orgasm reminded me of why we were here. My cock swelled and it pulsed once. The pleasure shot through me, shocking my heart out of a simple four four time into a skipping waltz time, unhinging my grasp of reality. My climax welled up and overflowed.

I poured cum into this little woman and I swear, when I eloped into the little rabbit rapping motion that tells a woman she'd have to clean up after, her pussy started to gulp and swallow. It pulled at my cock with a great rolling tension, that began at the base and traveled down the length to the very tip. It seemed to dilate time, slowing the experience down till I felt the tension travel down the length of my cock as distinct motion. It got faster and more frequent until she seemed to blur in my mind and I lost that sensation of feeling each constriction of her pussy individually on my cock.

She went tense, arching her little back under me, uncaring of my weight or the need to breath. She grunted, her hips popping up at me. I arched over her, still holding fast to her little ass, one hand gripping each little cheek and pulling at them as if to tear her apart like a loaf of bread. That is the moment when some fucking poet called them buns and we all nodded in perfect agreement with the rightness of that assessment. God what an ass!

Reality snapped back into place. Gravity returned. The need to breathe asserted itself.

"Heavy!" She gasped under me.

I sloughed to the side. Vicky Vise let go of my cock. Her body suddenly unable to maintain the clinched possession of this foreign body, the undocumented immigrant that she put to work tending her little jade garden was suddenly forgotten and she wanted to breathe normally again.

I rolled onto my back. I don't remember how my cock escaped its captors, fleeing the madding crowd and slapping wetly onto my abdomen. I lay back, panting myself. For a little woman, she turned out to be a lot of work. I put a wrist over my eyes, feeling my body return to its former shape and being.

I felt her sit up. She looked around. I could feel it and wondered why because it was dark.

"I have to tell you something. My, my therapist...no, that doesn't sound right. Well it is, but it isn't. Not really. I mean, Joshua, this, my god, you are a fuck god! I want to come back but I have to be honest with you. I know about the contract and you want to own my house and trade your cash for my pussy and ass and mouth...I got no tits so I'll have to subcontract there. I, they don't get in the way."

She leaned over me, delicately moved my arm off my eyes and kissed my nose. Her breath smelled sweet, almost, like a flower that has wilted. I felt a new surge of sexual arousal flash through me. I'd have fucked her again but she sat back up, giving my mind time to comprehend what she was saying.

"I work for a sex therapist. She, she uses me with her clients. I am not really a whore, though I do fuck for money. It's not like that, I am not a hooker. I told her about you and, well, she said I should try you out, since I was curious. I could not imagine why Liza of all people would agree to sell her body to you just for money. I think I get it now. You may be a craftsman but I understand there's more to your contract than just technique. Suddenly, owned like that, all you need to do is fuck. There is no performance anxiety, no worry about approval or if you'll come back. You own her. She can relax and come and come and come. I get that."

She got up and went into the bathroom. After the toilet flushed and she returned with a new warm cloth and began wiping the sweat et al off my chest, she cleaned my cock. She sat back.

"I don't want you to misunderstand." She whispered. "I loved this but you'll never own me. I ain't getting rich but I am keeping even, well, almost even. Sayesha needs more clients. I keep after her to let me recruit some for us but she insists that sex therapy does not recruit or market or advertise. We fill a need."

Vicky snickered. "I tell her I have a need that needs filling but she is unmoved by that particular argument." She shifted away from me to sit against the headboard, her knees up. I knew this because my eyes had opened and found she'd turned on the bathroom light and I could see her, not clearly but enough.

"I liked this. Coming here and having you like this. It, it is damn sexy to do this with you. I just want you to know that I won't sign your contract. I won't. I don't need to. I won't interfere but I am not going to join the others laying down for you. I am my own woman and I fuck when and how I like." She giggled a little. "Oh my, how I do seem to like fucking you. You mentioned my ass. Maybe some other time. I am going to go." She got off the bed. "Do you still want your key back?" She whispered.

I didn't know how to answer. If I let this woman fuck me whenever she wanted, I'd lose a precious form of leverage. After all, it was Sharon's opinion that the women of Holdingsfield didn't get enough and that was our opportunity.

"Why? Why are you in sex therapy? God, you could teach a Master's class."

She grunted. "Thank you. I'll tell Sayesha you said so." She was casting around for clothing. She stopped, came over to the bed and sat beside me, laying a little hand on my chest. It felt like a butterfly had alighted there and I went still so it wouldn't fly away.