Game, Set, Match

"Fuck, oh yes, you know I do," he answered, frustrated. This is what he had been dreaming of for weeks. But he was aggravated. She was going so slowly, teasingly, tormenting him, and drawing this thing out. He wanted to push her sweet mouth down on his cock, forcing himself into that throat, but he couldn't do it. He wasn't of the overly aggressive nature.

Angie, with her nail-polished fingers, began to massage his balls. She could tell they were full of hot cum. And she couldn't wait to experience it. She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and the sight of this young woman, this sweet little thing serving him, it was almost too much for him to handle. Her saliva coated his cock as she took him inside her mouth, inch by inch. Seductively and sexily, his precum and her saliva ran down his rising cock, oozing down her chin and onto the dark-colored carpet. She was such a sweet girl to do this for him. But Al knew she was pleasured by it too because she kept rubbing that bare pussy against the carpet between her splayed knees.

She was everything an older man could fantasize of: A blowjob dream, a wet dream, God, every kind of dream kneeling beneath him.

She grabbed his ass with her small hands. He had a hell of an ass. Very firm and slightly protruding from his athletic body. His cheeks clenched in the grasps and molestations of her touch. Angie attempted to deepthroat him; she came close, but ultimately, her throat was still too small for such a large man.

Up and down, she slobbered onto his erection, and it rose even higher and harder, dripping profusely like a faucet. Without warning, she softly eased her mouth off of his hardness and lied down on the carpet before him. Her legs spread, her nipples hardened in desire. She began to toy and play with her bare, pink pussy. He could see her juices glistening with the fondling of her slim fingers. She wanted him to cum inside of her, and it didn't take much prompting to have this instructor of hers mount her.

The scene must've been nastily taboo if anyone were to witness it: this big, bronzed body on top of a petite, pearl body, one nearing middle-age, the other body, young and writhing, eager for a release, eager for this older man to be inside and cum inside of her. The windows and curtains were spread and open, and neither Al nor Angie new if any passersby could hear their sexual antics.

Al positioned his big cock at the entrance of her pussy. Her clit was this little button that was begging to be played with. That would come later. For right now, he really needed to be inside this young woman. He eased his cock gently inside. God, she was so tight. He never felt the caution of a hymen or any protests from his lover, and so he deduced she was, in fact, not a virgin. All his eight inches slipped inside of her easily.

"Oh Al," she squealed, tugging at her hard nipples. "Fuck me, baby."

"You want it, baby? You want this big cock inside your tight little hole?"

"Oh fuck, yes, you know I want it. Let me be your bad girl."

"Oh? You want to be my bad girl?" he withdrew his cock cruelly and she nearly squealed with frustration. "What would you do for it?" He kneeled between her thighs, stroking himself and watching the sweet anguish upon her face.

"I'd do anything for it, anything. Just stick it in me."

He chuckled at her obvious sluttiness. This young woman was so sweet, but almost every woman he had been to bed with had showed this side of herself when they had had sex. He delighted in the teasing and the torment.

"I won't tease you anymore, darling," he said, and slid his meat back into her waiting cunt. Oh fuck, it felt so good.

Now, with every inch defiling her pink smoothness, their limbs locked in a frenzy of passionate lovemaking, they squealed and screamed for one another, moaning each other's names. Not knowing or maybe not caring, their cries in ecstasy bounced from the walls of Al's house off of the neighboring houses where men were mowing lawns and women were out on the porch stoops painting their toenails a fire engine red. None of it mattered. They finally got what they wanted: each other.

Her pussy had opened up easily to him, trusting his intentions. He was a true man: sexy, in-charge, and she loved every inch of him. She caressed her perky tits as he fucked her relentlessly, the almost bull of a man never being able to stop once he started. Her breasts, pale in comparison to the shade of his bronzed skin, bounced sexily with every inward thrust. Al's dark hair, though thinning, stuck to his head in a layer of sweat.

"Oh yes, oh fuck me, baby. Fuck my tight little pussy," Angie moaned and sighed, rubbing her clit furiously, wanting, no needing to get off.

"Holy shit, you want my big cock in you baby? Do you want me to cum inside of you?"

"Uh-huh," she said innocently, her angelic, light hair sprawled out behind her as he pummeled her without any kind of mercy. This side of him -- his ungentlemanly side -- appealed to her all the more as she approached her climax.

Her small fingers grabbed at his broad back. She ran her slight nails up and down his skin, leaving temporary, chalky marks of white from her touch. Those marks would disappear within a moment or two, but the impression and scent of her would not.

During one of his inward thrusts, his whole body flexed and then stiffened. It seemed every muscle in his body was putting effort into squirting inside this young woman. He was stopped dead, and soon, like a pearly, gooey river, his penis -- that magnificent penis -- exploded into his young protégée. Her small hips, which had been meeting each of his thrusts, almost stopped, and she felt a wave of ecstasy overcome her. It felt as if her pussy hole was convulsing and beating at the same time.

Her cunt lips clenched at his tool, grabbing at it, urging for more cum with her orgasm. She couldn't get enough of his cum. His wiry, coarse, dark pubic hair had been teasing the smooth skin of her slit as he fucked her. They had been teasing each other for weeks and it all came down to this moment and, with their release finally inside and surrounding each other, Al withdrew from his young lover and lied beside her on the carpet.

The young lady cuddled into his strong arms, and he held her sweetly. They giggled and chuckled, holding one another, laughing, their sweaty bodies intertwined with one another as they talked secretly of their lovemaking, how joyous it was, how much pleasure had been derived from it.

"I love it, Al. You were so hot."

"Mmm, you were great too, darling."

"It seems like I've been waiting forever for that!" she squealed and snuggled into his arms more closely.

"I know what you mean, it felt that way to me too." He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered: "Did you cum hard, sweetheart?"

She looked up at him and smiled, hitting him on the chest playfully. "You know I did. You don't even have to ask that."

He startled for a moment, and she asked him what was wrong. "I just had an idea, darling. Would you object to be painted? I mean, a nude painting?"

The young woman drew back for a moment. "What do you mean, baby?"

"I like to paint in my spare time. I guess we didn't get around to talking about each other's hobbies yet," he chuckled. "Anyway, I've always wanted to paint a beautiful young woman like yourself. Would you let me?"

She smiled into his eyes and nodded eagerly.

Al grinned, and his broad, tanned body stood up and picked her up from the carpet where she lied in the sheen of sweat and blush of her orgasm.

Holding her light body in the crook of his arms, he carried her up to his bedroom. She clung to his shoulders, smiling as he laid her gently on the soft down comforter of his bed. The window was halfway open, and a gentle breeze flowed inside, playing with the curtain's curls. The young woman, her legs sprawled before him, so smooth and pink, was another open invitation. But this time he did not want to fuck her. He had other plans. And the painting would come later. His mind was on other things for right now.

Kneeling down in front of the bed, he took the soft creature before him and pulled her to him by her slim, knobby knees. Her pussy was dripping with the exit of her juices, that extravagant pearly river of cum that he had sprayed inside of her. Everything flowed out of her so easily as she lied there, open, and agape before him.

Al applied his lips to her eager pussy. She was so soft. She was so easy and easily excited. It was a delight to make love to her and he felt heady and dizzy when he dipped his tongue into her waiting, wet hole. It was stained with their cum and juices, and he could taste every ounce of it. It played on his thick tongue like a drop of flavored rain.

Angie's body opened instinctively to him as he wormed his warm, big tongue inside of her. Damn, she tasted so good, and she felt so good. Her skin was smooth like silk, and he looked up at her sleepily from between her knees, his brown eyes suggesting that he wanted to do so much more than what he had already done to her.

Angie, up until that point, had been propped up at her elbows, enjoying watching what he was doing to her. But that look he gave her, that sexy look he had given her with those deep, soulful eyes between those long lashes, well, it was all she could do to keep from fainting dead away, and she fell onto her back, weakened by his glimpses. He chuckled gently onto her pussy, the vibrations of his breath onto her bare skin making her sensations all that more tantalizing and teasing.

His beautiful lips found their way up to her beautiful rosebud of a clit. It protruded from the folds like a profane flower and invited his tongue and mouthed her sex endlessly. She felt the warm breath, the pair of lips suckling and flicking that sweet rosebud, and she could not help but prop herself up on her elbows once more: she simply had to match the sight with the feel of him on her skin.

He was gorgeous, kneeling there between her creamy thighs. His dark hair was tousled and fingered aside in the restless orgasms that the two had shared. His hair, though slightly receding, was curled from sweat and damp upon his head. This man between her legs was adorably cute, insatiably sexual, and beautifully chiseled in such an impossible way. It was a three-way paradox all contained into one man and it was this combination of everything that made her succumb to the charm of his tongue.

Angie's young body felt as though she were almost convulsing. Her flat tummy, now concave, was fluttering and twitching in an impending orgasm. He slipped a thick finger inside of her, knowing what was to come. He fingered her openness frantically and, in one final rush, he could feel the river of her slick juices coming forward to the ditch of his curved tongue, one orgasm followed by another. He lapped up her juices eagerly as they pumped out of her; he could still feel the pearly, creamy consistency of his own cum as when he had cum in her not long before. All the perversity mixed together in one little woman's hole was more than he could bear and, unbeknownst to her, his own untouched orgasm spilled out onto the carpet beneath his knees.

Though many gaps had lied between them, they had somehow managed to find each other on this big, broad Earth. He crawled up to her on the bed and wrapped his arm around her tender and trembling shoulders. She was so small, so vulnerable and she had completely trusted him with her youth and body. His stomach held more butterflies than he was used to feeling, and they held each other once more, tracing the lines of each other's palms, exchanging gentle words.

This was the perfect time for his painting, this young woman before him trembling who had completely succumbed to his advances. He could feel that rush of euphoria to capture her as she was and, with a smile, he removed himself from the bed, slipped on a plush white bathrobe and set up his canvas and easel. Angie watched him in an immediate and interested fashion and posed for him, taking his direction.

Part Ten

Listening to his cues, Angie continued to lie on the bed, the perfect image of a fantasy dripping from her open hole. Al stationed himself on an adjacent chair in his room with her spread thighs available to his eye for artistry. He copied the image of what he saw in real life onto his canvas: the pink folds that were splayed, the silky smooth thighs that were open to his willing and horny eye, her moistness glistening in the glints of light. He painted what he saw.

Painting her girlish curves of her most private parts was the one of the most sensual things he had done in a long, long time. Most women would be squeamish about such things, but Angie seemed perfectly at ease to be painted in a most erotic and suggestive pose. They talked quietly and sweetly as he worked the wonders of his paintbrush.

"Hold still, darling. You're wiggling too much," he chuckled.

"Sorry," she said, laughing. "It's just that my shoulders are itchy from the sweat on my back."

"You weren't complaining about that a half hour ago."

"Yeah, well I was kind of preoccupied with other things," she said, leaning up on her elbows and smiling up at him, his frame draped in his robe, clumsily closed, and exposing himself to her unintentionally.

"You mean like my big cock?" he laughed.

"That being the main thing," she answered slyly, opening her legs further for her artist.

Angie, being just aroused by her new lover as he was with her, began to finger her glistening wetness before him.

"Don't do that, darling, you'll distract me."

"Oh?" she giggled. "Will it?"

"You know it will."

In his reignited lust, he simply could not take her teasing him anymore -- he had to do something about it. He abandoned his painting and crawled up onto the bed with her. Angie, still fingering her wetness, looked deeply into those dark eyes of his; their glances spoke volumes. They kissed softly, and then passionately. He pulled her on top of him; with this young lady now straddling him, positioning his cock to poke up into her, she giggled, thrusting her full tits forward and asked him:

"Will you paint this pose?"

He nodded and grinned. "I shall call it 'Game, Set, Match.'"

"How do you figure that?" she asked playfully.

"Simple. I've won. I got the girl I wanted," Al answered, teasing her erect nipples in between his fingers

And at this, the two lovers found each other inside one another's arms and bodies once more. They made love with an intimacy neither one had ever known in their lives. After he was finished, he went back to his easel, and, indeed, he called his work of art, "Game, Set, Match."