Guilty Pleasures Ch. 02

And I found that I was now massaging the scarred knee. Amazingly, she showed no signs of injury or soreness with this knee either...

"Come on, Mister Howard," Carol said softly into my ear. Then she fucking bit the lobe! "I know you need some fun. Becca worries about you, you know. And I... I have wanted some fun with you for a long time," she said, breathing heavily now into my ear, pressing those breasts against me harder, with obvious intent. "Just having my legs wrapped around you with your hands on my knee has me squirming."

Her legs flexed, stroking her inner thigh against my rock hard, inescapable erection. "And I can tell you are squirming too," she chuckled. "This is going to be so good," she said, almost idly, but with her tongue exploring my ear now. I was completely paralyzed, my whole body as rigid as my erection.

"All we need to make sure of is that the rest don't know," Carol almost giggled. "Becca would have kittens... and Anne and Mary, especially Anne, would kill me..."

What?

Fuck.

This was not coordinated. Carol had the same psychotic idea all on her own. It had flowered into her gorgeous, stupid head without any help, just as it had independently flowered into Anne's gorgeous, stupid head.

This was great!

She didn't know about Anne. If I turned her down, she would not feel slighted in comparison! I could get out of this. I opened my mouth to say something, then I stiffened.

I stiffened because, first of all, Carol's hand had suddenly found its way inside her taut, sleek thigh... and onto my throbbing cock.

Secondly, I realized that my problem was most emphatically not solved.

If I turned Carol down, she'd be mildly disappointed. Maybe more than mildly, considering the enthusiasm I was feeling from her fingers. If she was turned down, her commitment to secrecy would be... diminished. She would tell at least Anne. She'd still keep it a secret from Becca, of course. Carol liked living.

But she'd tell Anne.

There was zero way that Anne would in turn be able to keep what she and I had done secret in the face of that revelation. And Carol would then be the jealous, angry... talkative one.

So I had to give in to Carol's advances, right? That way no one gets hurt.

I will stop and take a bow at this point for some world class rationalization right there.

But.

If I gave in, and one or the other broke down and let the cat out of the bag, then I'd be seen as having cheated on each with the other. That was unlikely to end well, either...

Carol's kisses were working their way down from my ear and along my jawline.

I was so screwed, no matter what I did, I might as well be fucked, too. Right?

I turned and locked my lips onto hers. I lifted a hand to her jaw in turn and held her in position as I kissed her with every ounce of my considerable, awful desire. Carol's lips devoured mine in turn, and she athletically spun around to straddle me in my lap, her warm groin rubbing immediately against my now perilously hard cock. My cock which should have been exhausted, but which was declaring itself fresh as a goddamned daisy.

Her hands came up to grab my jawline and we batted at each other's tongues happily. My fingers dug into her rock hard glutes, which she flexed happily in return.

Carol tugged upward on my shirt, lifting it up. Reluctantly, I lifted my hands up and off of her ass, and she tugged the garment over my head. With it free in her hands, she balled it up and tossed it over her shoulder.

"Your turn," she breathed.

Okay. I was already going to Hell. That was a given, eventually. But before one of the inevitable possibilities resulted in Becca sending me there personally, or I was simply castrated by one of these two girls if only they found out, I might as well enjoy myself, right?

I should have a PhD in rationalizations, no?

Carol was wearing a very tight (in places) UNC Athletic Department teeshirt in the school's baby blue and white, and elegantly fitted shorts in the same blue. Getting the tee off over her head turned out to be only a minor chore. It was really only tight over her bust, and her bra-clad breasts bounced quite exquisitely when I tugged it free of them. I may have paused in my disrobing efforts to appreciate the sight, but Carol was happy to help and kept wriggling free. I got back with the program and gently pulled the neckline free of her head. I balled up her shirt as she had done mine, and I tossed it over my shoulder in like fashion.

She giggled. That made for a very interesting sight as the tops of her breasts jiggled where they nearly spilled over the tops of her low-cut bra. "So your bra is Carolina Blue, too," I observed, drinking in the sight. "Do your panties match?"

"I guess that you will just have to find out," Carol teased.

With her still straddling me, hell, with her still rocking against my lap, I tugged at her shorts, popping the snap and tugging down the zipper most of the way. There, inside her shorts, with a waistband riding much lower than the shorts, was a soft, white, petite pair of panties with a tone on tone pattern woven into the fabric.

"Blue and white," I mused.

"Tar Heel to the bone," the varsity athlete intoned.

I pulled her against me and we kissed some more. I will admit, my mind was not completely focused on the kiss this time, as my arms were wrapped around her back and my fingers were working the hooks open. The bra had four of the little metal puzzles. It was a substantial support mechanism, for a substantial burden. She had been planning on zip lining that day, after all.

But I had plenty of experience in working free those hooks, and in moments, the bra sagged loose between us, held up only by our pressing bodies. I made myself stop kissing Carol and leaned backward. She did as well, which let the bra come loose in my hands and allow me a close-up view of two tremendous breasts.

And they were wonders. More than generous, they sagged of course, but miraculously little, especially considering the weight they possessed. They would sag more in time, of course, but for now they were practically miracles of anti-gravity. Youth is magical in some ways.

The nipples were thick, and poked pertly out to incredible lengths, and the surrounding roseate circles were the size of half-dollars, with a sprinkling of visibly aroused goosebumps.

I was honestly a little stunned at the sight, and I sort of just sat there for a few moments, drinking that magnificent chest in.

Carol giggled. "Do you like my breasts, Mister H? I think you do."

"Please stop calling me that," I almost begged. "Under these circumstances, wouldn't you think Clark would be better?"

Carol started to open her mouth, then stopped and grinned at me with a smile that sent foreboding through me. "Oh no, I couldn't do that, Mister H," she said in mock shock. "It wouldn't be proper!"

Christ, girl, try to make this disastrous situation at least a little easier for me mentally, would you?

But I didn't say it out loud, because, fuck me, I also was kind of grooving to the way she was speaking to me.

Hell... and me: A match made in this cabin over two days...

"I do very much like your breasts," I said with a sigh, and bent to press my face against them. In moments, I was desperately sucking first one nipple, then the other, while massaging both outer curves, her mounds overflowing my hands. Carol laughed in delight.

Then she cruelly slipped off of my lap to stand over me, those breasts dangling just out of my reach. She looked down at my waist as we both could see the damp spot at the end of my desperate bulge, where pre-cum had darkened the light red of my cotton shorts.

"You have something on your pants, Mister Howard," she smiled. "I think we should get them off before they stain..."

Yet another moment where I had a chance to say, 'No.' Yet another chance lost.

She leaned over to run her fingers along my waistband, and my belly contracted almost violently in the shock of her touch down there. We kissed again as her fingers worked at the button, and my hands lifted to again cup those dangling parabolas. Her fingers slid down my zipper, tugging it open with deliberate haste.

My cock swung up and out of the fly, amorally eager.

"No underwear, Mister H?" Carol said, in actual surprise. Then she grinned. "What were your plans for today?"

"Reading my book and drinking a little too much Jack Daniels," I replied defensively. "These shorts have a built-in liner," I added.

"I'm assigning you new plans," she said, sinking down to her obviously not sore and never were in the slightest knees before me. She bent and kissed the tip of my cock, which jumped happily in response. Then she slipped her lips wide and took the head into her mouth. Keeping it there, barely inside her pursed lips, her hands snaked out and tugged down my shorts. I lifted my hips, forcing my cock a little deeper into her mouth before she rode upwards with me. With the new freedom, Carol swiftly pulled the shorts down my legs and off my bare feet.

She straightened, leaving my cock sadly bereft and she actually looked at the shorts. They did indeed have a built in liner that saved on underwear and made them suitable for impromptu entry to pools, streams, or the ocean. Perfect cruise wear. They also were very cool and comfy. At that moment, I was both mortified and extremely happy to have them off me and dangling from Carol's hand.

She tossed the shorts aside and grinned at me. Then she looked me up and down, staring extra long at my cock as she ran her hands slowly up my thighs. "I have always wanted to see you naked, Mister H," she said softly. "You do not disappoint." Her hands reached my groin and wrapped themselves slowly around my cock.

I was a forty-five year old man with a body that had fought and lost its battle with Dad-hood. But whatever. If Carol thought I was hot, I was not about to argue the point right then.

And then I was back in her mouth, and I was moaning in involuntary, guilty pleasure. Her mouth bobbed up and down, and she was drooling delightfully all over me. I was in heaven.

But.

Like Anne, she had a lot to learn about giving head. In some ways, she was ahead of her friend, in others, way behind.

"Ohhh, that is nice..." I sighed.

"Nice?" Carol asked, popping up and looking almost offended.

"Oh so nice," I smiled wonderingly at her and stroked her jaw gently. She smiled and bent once more, but slid my fingers under her chin and tilted her head back up toward me. "But... you are too eager."

"Too eager? I was unaware that guys thought that was a thing."

"Too eager? Yes, actually," I chuckled. "Too willing? No, that is not a thing we recognize." Too willing, as in the case of this young girl I was supposed to be looking out for? Hell yes, I recognized it. I just was too willing myself. "But you seem like you are in a rush to get me off."

"I am not trying to get it over with, Mister H," Carol said firmly but defensively. Then she added in a softer, huskier tone, "I like the feel of your cock in my mouth."

My eyes immediately rolled back in my head just a little bit. "Oh yeah, Carol. Talk to me like that."

"Hmm?" she asked, unsure what had happened.

"A really good blowjob is a head game," I explained, a little too eagerly for my own good. "You need to simultaneously make me your master and your servant."

"My 'Master'?" asked this twenty-first century young woman skeptically.

"And your slave," I said with an entreating smile. "Look, you have to admit that you are in pretty submissive position, doing a pretty submissive thing right now, right?" I said, indicating the gorgeous topless girl kneeling between my legs, hands still cradling my cock and her mouth mere aching inches from my manhood. "Lean into it. Make me feel dirty about sitting here, 'making' you suck my cock. But make me feel powerful, too." It was not going to be a heavy lift to make me feel dirty, but here I was encouraging it.

"The fun part is," I went on, "you do that, and you end up turning the guy, turning me, into your utter thrall."

"My thrall? I like that."

"You get into my head like that, while I get into your mouth, and I'll be nothing but yours."

"Forever?" Carol asked impishly, but wistfully.

"Maybe not your slave forever," I shrugged wryly. "But a man never forgets truly great, mind-controlling head. He will always be a little bit yours."

Carol leaned in and kissed my head again gently, then licked it before looking up at me. "How?" she asked, breathlessly.

"That's a great start," I gasped happily. "Look at me however you can, whenever you can. Go slow, go fast, it is up to you."

"Do I have to let you fuck my throat?" she asked uncertainly. It was the first actually unhappy look I had seen.

"No!" I said. Then I shrugged. "I know some guys like that. A few probably need it to truly get off. But the important thing to remember is, whatever he wants, you are the one actually in control. Only do what you want, what makes you feel good. If he demands more than you want to do, in this or anything, put him in the recycling bin," I finished firmly. Someone had choked her before. It was a wonder she wanted to suck cock at all. Whomever he was, I wanted to kick his ass.

She liked down at my cock, then approached it much more slowly than before. She bent and slid her lips over it, and began to bob again. I reached out and caressed her head, then tilted it up so I could see her eyes, while keeping my cock within her lips.

I saw a smile in her eyes at that, and felt her tongue whip against me inside her mouth and I moaned happily. There it was. She got it.

She took her time now, slowly exploring me with her mouth and fingertips. I felt the worship now, felt how she was giving herself to my pleasure.

And I'd have gladly killed for her in that moment. And she knew it. She could see it in my flushing face and happy eyes.

But my hungry body wanted more. I had ideas, and she was definitely equipped for them. I ran my hand along her jawline, my thumb stroking her cheek. With a gentle push, I slid her face from my cock. Carol only looked at me with patient curiosity... and then licked my head so profoundly sensuously I almost came and ruined what I wanted to do.

"Your breasts," I said to her breathlessly. "Your magnificent breasts, rub me on them. Rub my cock on those fantastic nipples." I found myself half commanding, half begging. The request seemed to surprise her. I'd found something new for her to enjoy. Good.

She cocked an amused and almost regal eyebrow at me, then curiously, she straightened up. Her hand, which had never entirely stopped stroking my shaft, lifted it and pointed it toward herself as she pressed her chest forward. I twisted my own hips gently to help guide the tip of my cock out to press softly against an achingly erect nipple. After a moment, Carol pressed my hardness deep into her reluctantly yielding flesh.

I moaned happily, and she murmured with amusement and intrigue. She then wiggled my cock back and forth, dragging my head repeatedly across her nipple, which I swore managed to get even harder. She was experimenting. And cooing with pleasure at the results.

I tilted my hips and pressed forward, nestling my cock between her spectacular mounds. She stared down at my eager, purple head settling into her valley. "Squeeze it," I begged. "Squeeze it with those soft mams."

"Fun..." Carol murmured, smiling as she looked down to watch as she clasped my cock into the firmly yielding prison she formed by squashing her breasts together. She hummed her approval at the sensation.

I rocked my hips, making my spit-soaked cock twist and shift inside her embrace, and she cooed more happily.

"Get me off," I begged. "Get me off just like this, please," I asked, every worshipful, needful erg of my current state poured into those words.

Carol paused a moment, then lifted her tits and slid them along my length and then back down. I moaned loudly and involuntarily. She smiled. Then she tried sliding her whole body up and down around my encased shaft. My moans let her know how much I approved.

God, I was in heaven. I was so happy, I almost completely forgot to feel bad about it.

From the intent, eager look on Carol's face, she was already digging the procedure way more than my ex-wife ever had, though she had been equally well equipped.

I loved, loved, loved a good titfuck, but my ex had reserved them for special rewards, or for when she was feeling particularly affectionate. Let's see... six years since the divorce... yeah, it had been at least ten years since my cock had last had a chance to burrow into a pair of breasts. Probably more.

"Oh this is too good," I moaned, almost in despair at how briefly I was going to be able to enjoy it. "I'm going to come, Carol. Don't stop. Please don't stop!"

The girl only grinned wildly and slid up and down faster. "That's it. Come for me, slave. Come on me!" she grunted with effort as she bounced along me.

The girl learned fast.

Unfortunately, I came fast. With a desperate gasp, my body clenched from scalp to toes, I completely lost my breath, and I experienced a semi-out of body experience as I blasted cum upwards. I could tell I hit her in the face with at least some. She had been looking downward, watching my cock driving away between her breasts. More hit her chest and shoulders, and yet more was trapped between her mounds as she moved and smeared itself all over her chest and the dick that had produced it.

It was a glorious, mind-blowingly filthy mess. I practically fell off the bed in the aftermath. I might actually have done so, had Carol not still held my softening member between those amazing fucking tits.

She looked up at me. I had not exactly painted her face, but there was a drop of jizz dangling from the tip of her nose. She burst out laughing. "Now, that was fun... and intense," she said, shaking her head, which caused the drop of semen to fall and hit her right breast. "I've got to clean this up a little," she announced, rising. She pointed at me sternly. "Don't go anywhere. Don't move. I'm not done with you..." she said as she retreated to the lavatory.

Of course I moved. As soon as the door clicked shut, I rose and silently moved to the other side of the bathroom door, pressing myself up against the stateroom's outer door.

Carol did not waste time, and I heard the toilet flush and the sink run briskly almost immediately. The door swung open and she popped out, looking toward the now empty bed. "Mister...?" she asked in confusion, just as I pounced on her from behind, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her slightly off the ground. I'd have lifted her more, but she did carry a significant amount of athletic muscle. "Whoop! Hey!" she yelped in surprise and struggled as I carried her back toward the bed. Her struggle was sincere for only a second, before it became quite performative, consisting largely of wiggling her ass back against me and my recovering cock.

It was only a few steps back to the bed, and rather than toss her onto it, I set her upon her feet again beside it. Still behind her, I sent my now-unburdened hands straight up to cup those breasts, squeezing them as I nuzzled the nape of her neck.

Guilt? Yeah, I considered that tabled for the moment.

I pinched her nipples but once, and softly, before I slid my hands down her belly and dipped my fingers into the open fly of her tight shorts. She sighed softly as I caressed her panty-covered mons, then pushed the shorts off her hips. They slid to the floor, joining our other garments in being ignored. She bent slightly forward to get them completely off and I discovered that the back of her panties, while not quite a thong, barely covered more than the top third of her ass before disappearing into the crack of her ass. I got this intel first from how the bare skin of her ass was pressed back against my dangling balls when she bent over.