Doing What a Man's Gotta Do

"Holy--" her words cut short as I sucked her tender flesh.

I rewarded her with a light kiss or two for each nipple. Her chin rose as her head pushed back into the pillow while her mouth shot open. Rapid gasps for air sounded from her open mouth, and her eyelids fluttered. I kissed my way down past her navel, beginning to apply a few longer, gliding strokes with my tongue alongside her thighs.

"You're driving me crazy, you--" she moaned but got cut short again as I lapped her viscous-coated hood. I think she was going for '... fucker!'

Stretched between her legs, I kept my nose squarely ensconced at her glistening vaginal entrance. Just softly breathing in and out, letting the heat of my breath flow across her cunt and occasionally blowing out a deep breath across the folds. I watched her quiver, her legs tense, and her struggle against her body's battle for more pleasure. Her cunt was seeping moisture from the engorged, pulpy, peach-like labia. It begged for more. The tiny cunt-mouth opened, begging me for release.

Gently, I licked her cunt lips, circling the clit and down again. I repeated the motions until I transferred the viscous lubricant from her inner labia to the entire surface. Then, gently, slowly, I began to relieve her. Dipping in my fuck finger, I found her G-spot and entertained it. Watching her body respond to my touches, I took my cues from her tightening muscles and slowly increased my pressure to match her gyrations, firmly thrusting my fingers upward. Like her mother, her body responses were so beautiful that it was easy to edge her toward her first climax.

"Mother! Fuck!" she whined in a high-pitched voice as her body lurched and jittered in response to my ravishing her with fingers and tongue.

As the great 'O' formed on her lips, her eyes rolled upward in their sockets, and her spine arched, lifting her ass off the bed, just like Ginger. Her leg muscles locked, and her tummy muscles rippled in the throes of her orgasm. Melinda's vaginal muscles clenched onto my fingers and held them so tightly that I could feel the tremors rolling through her body. I thrust firmly, timing each thrust to match each wave rippling her core. Unable to resist any longer, Melinda's eyes opened, her mouth opened, and she came with the fierceness of an eighteen-year-old whose thundering body overpowered her struggle to withhold her approaching orgasm. Her body, bathed with the sheen of perspiration, slowly melted into the sheets.

'How amazing is that,' I thought, watching her vaginal opening pulse as her body shook with pleasure. This close, I felt a small burst of air escape her cunt and touch my lips. The scent of sex filled the air. She collapsed, gasping wide-mouthed, overwhelmed by her orgasm, as I ceased prodding her cunt with my fingers. Her circular cunt opening still pulsed rhythmically.

"You ready, girl?" I asked, my voice raspy, looking at her sweat-covered, quivering body. I wasn't going to let her catch her breath and cool down. I slid up, and aligned between her thighs.

"Okay, I understand what a man's gotta do," she whispered, feeling my cock nudging the apex of her sex. Her ardent words let me know she understood a trucker man's motto; she braced herself and drew both legs upward on either side of my hips. You might call her actions a sweet butterfly's wing surrender moment, or an ancient instinctive reflection.

I smiled, pressed myself between her soaked thighs, and slipped my cock inside her pulsing, moist cunt. She reared her perspiration-dampened head back, and her legs tightened around my waist with a moan. I grunted, "The first cum was to ready you for what comes next. It will keep you in happy thoughts all through basic training. So, take it, all of it, memorize every thrust." Groaning, I released what I had held back; I drove balls deep in a lustful fit of conquest. My fury was feral, fueled by the cry of a virgin getting cock for the first time. It felt good, far better than doing her mother.

Her voice huffed out with every thrust of my cock into her. I didn't ask how she wanted it. Because I knew that she would get it in the service, like the rough action she received lying pinned beneath me, she needed that experience without being under the duress of military training. Eventually, her body responded. I felt her thighs tighten, her core quiver, and her voice keen as her body quaked in a second orgasm. My lust was fueled by the gasps that came as I plunged into her. She wrapped her arms around me and held on.

"Fuck!" I yelled out a long and drawn-out guttural cry of my own and shot my wad deeply inside her.

Lying beside me, she was gasping as hard as I was; we looked into one another's eyes. I tried to read her thoughts, colliding with the continued involuntary contractions washing over her. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes, and, amidst her sexual euphoria, whispered, "Now, I know why Mama has that smirky smile on her face when she comes home from your place, Mike Waverly. You're a goddamn stud."

Saturday morning, I found myself holding nothing but a towel I had grabbed while answering a troubled neighbor's urgent pounding on my door. Ginger was distraught.

"She's gone, Mike!" she announced, barging into the living room.

"Who?" I feigned ignorance.

"Melinda! Damn her! She got up and went into the Air Force this morning. The fucking Air Force recruiter came and picked her up. The little shit!"

"At least she didn't run away," was the best I could offer.

I hadn't thought of facing Ginger after Melinda's departure. I could tell her hurt ran deep. I could tell it wasn't because of anything Melinda did. It was the history of her mom's past and the loss of her baby girl growing up and going out into the world. It was that type of anger. Her angst was like my own experience when my mother's heart was broken. I was seeing it happen all over again in Ginger's emotional outburst.

"FTA!" she cried out.

"That's Fuck the Army," I corrected with a chuckle.

"Then, FT...A...F!" she tried again, faltering as she did.

"That's just strange and harder to say with a straight face," I laughed.

"Well, dammit, give me something to fuckin' ... vent at!" she bellowed in anguish.

"How about you just come to bed and fuck me instead?" I quipped, letting go of the towel.

"Jesus, Mike. You're up this damn early?" she stared, shocked at the rising situation. If only temporarily, it deflated her frustration at losing a daughter to the world.

"I think we all started this way ... at about eighteen -- horny. Besides, when you're emotional like this, I think the best thing to solve that is to get laid," I answered, nodding toward the hallway.

And that's what I did when called to service. It's also how I spent the rest of my Saturday: in the arms of the wounded, prideful mother whose child I initiated before she joined the Air Force. That left my Peterbilt's service for another day; a mechanic's work is never done. You know, 'A Man Does What a Man's Gotta Do.'

I appreciate you taking the time to read my short story. Please leave your score and comment on how it resonated with you.

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