Back Door Woman: Sunday, A.M.

"Want some sugar, horsey?" she grinned. "Do you like sugar?"

She's crazy. Crazy. I smiled. Nodded that I liked sugar.

"Will you be a good horsey, a good fella, if I let you have some sugar?" she asked naughtily.

"Uh huh," I managed to get out. Just give me the damned sugar. Now.

Her fingers came to my mouth. I grabbed her wrist, and she extended her fingers. I opened my mouth and placed her wet fingers inside, sucking and licking her taste from them. My other hand went to her wet slit. Mr. Thumb found his target on her clit and two other fingers slid inside her, filled her. She gasped. Began to ride Mr. Thumb and his partners. But in less than a minute she extricated herself from this position and turned around, back facing me, on her knees again, straddling me. She was breathing hard, breathing hard along with me. She was in a hurry. No, slow down. I grabbed her hips.

She understood. Moved her body up along my midsection, still straddled. An even closer view. Closer. I could see the moisture, smell her juices. She rocked gently back and forth, pushing her wet pussy towards my face in the backward stroke. She was ready, ready to ride. But she prolonged it.

Her body bent forward, opening her up even more. Her head, tongue, went to my inner thigh. It drove me crazy when she licked me here. She knew it. She licked, and bit, and sucked the flesh of my left inner thigh, blew her breath on the dampness. Now my cock was shoving into her chin, her neck, her chest. Bobbing up and down, wanting up and down.

My left hand went to her upper thigh, my right hand between her thighs. Wrong side up for Mr. Thumb on her nub. My finger slid into her, delving inside, feeling the tightness, the wetness, stroking in and out as she moaned, still rocking back and forth, shoving herself to me, on me. Mr. Thumb rubbed her nether eye. God. Joint so hard, so hard. Wanna feel her, feel it, feel me in her. She took my cock in her hand, changed sides with her tongue. Now the right thigh's turn. Didn't want to wait any longer. Didn't. "Ride," I said. I think my voice was hoarse. "Ride the horsey now."

She didn't hurry. She wasn't interested in my plea.

She was still bent forward. Still exposed. She cupped my balls, scooped them into her hand. Massaged them lightly, gently. Her hand shifted to holding just one, her mouth going for the other, sucking it in, running her tongue all around. Her other hand still held my cock. She moved her hand gently yet firmly up and down my shaft. Slow and easy, slow. No, ride me, I said. Wasn't I saying this out loud? Couldn't she hear me? Ride me, little girl. Ride me. My hips moved, up and down, up and down. Pushing my hard on up to the ceiling, pushing it into her palm, pushing it where she couldn't ignore, not ignore.

My breath was ragged, uneven. My finger now stabbed her opening, imitating what I wanted to do. She rocked on it. Wiggled. I wanted to grab her and slam her down on, over, my cock. But I didn't have to.

J suddenly sat up. She got still, muscles tensed. She was on the verge of getting off. She pulled off of my finger, placed her hands on either side of my knees on the bed, moved down in line with my throbbing cock, hovering, hovering. I reached down, grabbed myself with one hand, her left thigh with my other, ready to shove it in. She reached back, moved my hand away, replaced it with hers. She eased down over the head, eased down and moaned. She lowered herself only an inch or so more, slowly riding up and down over my swollen head, letting the head pierce her, over and over.

Her moans were soft, grunting noises. Ah uh. Ah uh. Ah uh with each stab. Noises so good, so good. Finally she lowered herself on down my shaft. Down. Sliding. Sucking. Tightening her muscles each time she moved up. I was mesmerized. Watching. Maybe not breathing. Sometimes I forget to breathe. My head shook side to side. I couldn't speak. I wanted to speak. I don't know what I wanted to say, but I couldn't say it even if I knew. Sliding up, down, watching her swollen lips suck me in and then release me, in, out. It was . . . what?

My left fingers went around her waist, my thumb moving to her lower back, gently stroking her special place. I reached with my right arm, reached to find her swollen nub with my fingers. I slowly began stroking her, up, down, up and down between her clit and where my cock rode into her. Her pace quickened, her movements more pronounced. She started rotating her hips around and around, grinding down on to my own. Oh-uhhhh. Oh-uhhhh. Oh-uhhhh. She said. The ohs matching her circles.

God. God. Swirling. Squirming. Her hips gyrating in time to her moans. She finally leaned backward, head dropped back, she rode me forward and back, forward and back, faster and faster until she exploded, my hand, fingers, pulling her lips, her bud, pinching, rubbing. Uh breath uh breath uh breath. She screamed, long, ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ohhhhhhhhhhhh. Whimpering now. Heh-uhm. Heh-uhm. Heh-uhm. Soft little whimpers, breathing in and out. God. Can't hold it anymore. The whimpering.

I grabbed her hips, pushed down hard, rode into her, reaching her inner being, shoving my hardness into her, into her softness. She moved like a rag doll, arching with my thrusts, swaying back and forth, to and fro. I held her hard, pumped into her. She fell forward, milked my jewels, draining them, draining me, all, all into her. Aye, aye, aye, uh, huh, huh, uh huh. Me. I'm breathing again. Have to breathe to moan. Air. Gulping air. She, too. I can hear her. She's shaking. Lightly, softly shaking. Did I do that to her? To her? God, I wanna see her face.

Her hands, stroking my shins. Her cheek. Resting on my shin. Rubbing up and down. Her hands, touching the tops of my feet. Stroking them. Her tongue, licking my feet, left, lick lick, right lick lick, left lick lick, right llliiiiccckkk. Feet don't feel this good. Do they? Kiss. Kiss kiss. Kiss my toes. My big toe in her fingers, clamped between the thumb and forefinger.

She sang, sang in a sing song voice. A baby voice. A child.

"This little piggy went to market," and she moved to the next toe. "This little piggy stayed home." Move. "This little piggy had roast beef." Move. "This little piggy had none." No move. No move. She didn't move her fingers.

J suddenly lifted up, up off me and around, somehow facing me and straddling my stomach on her knees. She reached behind her, playfully encircled my softening cock with her fingers.

She was smiling, smiling happily. Laughing. "And this little piggy cried wee wee wee, all the way home," she finished, wiggling my cock gently to the wee wee wee.

I started laughing, too. We both looked at my stomach at the same time. A mixture of our juices was dripping from between her legs onto my belly. A delicious sight. She smiled wickedly.

"Damned hobbit hole. Yet another leak," I complained.

"Well, in future we're just gonna have to keep the hole stopped up as best we can," J said. She paused, eyed me. "Any suggestions? Any tools for the job?" she asked.

I grinned and nodded. She had said the word tools very naughtily. Two syllabled.

She reached her index finger down, scooped up part of the drippings, opened her mouth to partake. She put her finger in and immediately pulled it out, clean.

"More sugar, horsey?"

I nodded yes. She leaned down, mouth to mine. I opened. Her tongue darted in, proffered the nectar. I licked and sucked, receiving my share. Both our bellies were now smeared with juices. I wrapped my arms around her waist, then moved my hands to cup her butt. I squeezed her, moved her body up and down, rubbing the mixture between us, spreading it in, cementing us together with our sex sap. Her elbows were placed alongside my chest. She looked at me and smiled again. A nice smile.

"I like my horsey. He's a good ride." She winked at me then leaned down and placed her cheek on my chest, moving it 'til she got it just where she wanted it. I hugged her, hugged her close to me, arms back around her waist. Her left arm was bent, stretched above her, hand in my hair. Her right hand on my chest. Is there a warmer place? A safer place? Don't move yet. A moment more. Two or four before you hop up to pee.

I couldn't help but think of poor Pablo. Poor Schmablo. So, she's not as enamored of you as you think. Take that, asshole.

She was a witch. As if she heard every word in my mind, she distinctly said "Dickhead."

"Ah," I returned. "What a lucky woman you are. I'm two fucks in one."