Hot in Houston

There are hotter and wetter places than Houston in August- it's just that most of them are found inside the human body.

They were sprawled out on the sofa too tired to move. On the TV a local reporter screamed about "Slime in the Ice Machine" or some such thing and they couldn't have cared less. It was too hot to get up and change the channel- hell it was too hot to get up and get the remote, which some idiot had put on top of the TV, so the news and the slimy ice machine were it for distraction.

He wore gray drawstring shorts and a pained expression. Her tube top was two shades of blue- the color it was intended to be and the darker arc around her neck where the sweat had soaked through. Her denim cutoffs left a red line where it met her white, white skin. Summer was definitely not her time of year.

Her head lolled on the back of the sofa and she turned to look at him. God she found him sexy. Actually, the heat had that effect on her-made her nuttier than squirrel poop. Anyone would do right now and a naughty impulse came on her. She lightly traced a bright red fingernail up his hairy thigh. "Whatcha thinking Shug?" Shug was short for Sugar-a nickname that stuck as soon as she found out that it sounded perfect with her Texas drawl- he'd been down here from Boston just long enough to still find the accent exotic and she wasn't above using that to its utmost.

"I'm thinking a cold beer would be good". Oh yeah, last of the romantics this one.

"It's too far away" The kitchen may as well have been Guam. She looked around to spy the half bottle of tequila on the liquor cabinet. She leaned over, spun the cap off with her thumb and extended it to him, daring him.

His nose wrinkled, "oh man that's nasty". She shrugged and took a pull on the bottle. She loved shocking him, playing up the white trash angle. "Ugh, no salt even?"

She grinned- "oh there's plenty of salt..." and leaned over to run her thick pink tongue along his neck. He tasted sweaty and salty and very very manly. The tequila burned in her stomach, and the heat radiated out, settling mostly between her thighs.

A giggle escaped her as he quickly rubbed it off.

"Try some". Her eyes danced daringly. She quickly threw one damp leg over his, loving the friction between her clammy slick skin and his hairy thigh. She held his gaze and lifted the bottle up to his lips, tilting it so the pale golden fire washed over his lips. He tried to turn his head and a little spilled on his cheek and hung in a drop off his chin.

Her tongue snaked out and saved the hanging drop, then slithered noisily up his chin and cheek. He threw his head back to avoid the tongue-bath and she put her nose against his neck. The scent of good clean sweat made her tingle.

She threw her right leg over his left, sitting astride them both now, her thighs wide apart. The thin viscous film of sweat between them allowed her to rock gently back and forth now, her hips moving of their own accord like pistons powered by the steam building between her legs.

She gripped the sofa on either side of his head. She wasn't going to let him get away despite his protests.

"It's too hot to fuck"

"Never," she responded and with a moan leaned against him. Her nipples grew to near bursting as his perspiration soaked through her thin top. She ground them against his slimy, hairless chest and her mouth sought his. He tried to avoid her lips, but she persisted until she pinned his head against the back of the couch and pushed his lips open with an insistent, probing tongue. Their teeth clinked together painfully for a moment and he groaned in protest, then she felt him sag backwards against the cushions and she knew he was hers.

He kissed her back now. Their lips tried to crush each other to jelly, parting only to allow a panting breath. Even the sound of their breathing was primal, sexual and needy. Her pussy throbbed gently, her hips pumped harder, desperate to grind against him- make some kind of contact with some part of her man before she lost her god damned mind. Fingers, mouth, thigh, cock it didn't matter any more.

The woman pulled away just long enough to pull her tube top over her head and throw it across the room where it landed on her dog Bubba, breaking his rather intent concentration on the proceedings. With a grin that was part smile and part grimace, she rubbed her swollen brown nipples against his chest. The warm sheen of sweat and the complete lack of hair let her rub back and forth across his pectorals, building up speed and friction until she was convinced the damn things would burst into flame.

He finally showed some initiative, grasping her shoulder blades and crushing her against him. Roughly he rocked her side to side, letting her nipples brush against his. A huge drop of sweat- his or hers she didn't know and cared even less- dropped between them and splashed against her stomach. The sensation made her moan in a voice she didn't recognize as her own- the moan of a woman in such need her own desire betrayed her.

No longer was she in control. When she started she'd had visions of languorously teasing him into submission, but those ideas had fled her brain, chased out by the pagan thoughts that took their place. Her hand pried itself loose from the back of the sofa and reached up his thigh to the leg of his shorts. She ached to feel him- to know his need was as great as hers for there was no way it would be greater.

It strained to reach her hand. She felt the velvety head, slick with preliminary juices and grasped it hard, stroking it insistently. He moaned half in pain but it was drowned out by the high-pitched whine she let tear from her throat as she threw her head back. She needed it- him, whatever- deep inside her never to pull out again.

Somehow she pulled away from him with a slurping sound where the suction between them was broken. A gust of relatively cool air blew over her stomach and chest, making her shiver. Her fingers clawed at the button of her cutoffs, her hips rocking back and forth, desperate for even the contact of the cotton material damp and discolored as it was.

He lifted the cheeks of his ass off the cushion and tried to remove his shorts as best as he could. Fire blazing from her hazel eyes, she reached for the waistband and pulled it over his cock and balls, letting it snap back underneath them. He grunted questioningly, but the look in her eye silenced him immediately. He knew what he had to shut up and do and she smiled, knowing he knew and thinking how she never did like stupid men.

Her hand was a blur, pulling on him roughly, insisting he be in just the right condition of hardness- roughly equivalent to Egyptian marble. She positioned herself over him, her hips making small circles in the air. She was in charge- she knew just what she wanted and by God, here...

...it...

...was.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, anticipating the warm first touch of a hard cock against her wet opening. Slowly... slowly... then her eyes flew open in shock. Strong male fingers grabbed her hips and forcefully held her in place. Instead of the slow contact she thought she craved there was a single push and he was inside her to the hilt. She moaned with surprise and looked at him.

It wasn't the same guy at all. A red-faced satyr had replaced the reticent lover she loved to tease. He grinned up at her, daring her to say anything at all. His teeth were gritted, his eyes aflame. Strong fingers gripped the cheeks of her ass as she was lifted up until the head of his hard prick barely sat inside her, then he pulled her sharply down, forcing the breath from her body and a sensation of heat and desire exploded in her brain.

She went limp, her head burying itself in his strong tautly-muscled neck. Surrendering all control, she let him lift her and drop her, lift her and drop her , his cock slamming against her cervix, plumbing her depths with each thrust. Neanderthal grunts escaped his throat. She rubbed her sweat-covered face against the slick skin of his neck and chest, incoherent mumblings the only sounds her mind could form.

Wet slapping, moans and grunts filled the air in a symphony of raw passion and need. Her sweat-soaked hair lashed them both. A salty drop flew into her eyes, making them sting. Shaking her head , she tried to dislodge it without breaking the mood, or the rhythm he was pounding her to.

She had no idea how long they rutted- and that was the word for it. It they had been at it as long as it felt like, the dog would have starved and their families would have sent search parties, but however long it had been five minutes or five days, the first wave of orgasm crashed over her too soon. It was followed by more- and more. She uttered nothing more intelligible than "Ungggh", a noise that rose in a crescendo then seemed to hang over them like a cartoon thought balloon.

He glared at her. She felt him almost hating her for turning him into this, making him lose his precious control. She felt a fleeting moment of fear, then the return of her own lost control. She grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from her bruised hips. Holding his arms over his head, she found the resources to change rhythm.

Her eyes met him in a laughing challenge. Without being able to hold her in place, his thrusts became wild, unpredictable and she was once again gaining mastery of the situation. She was the winner and she wanted her prize- deposited deep inside her.

Her mouth and tongue moved silently for a moment, cracked lips forming words no one could hear until finally her brain remembered how to speak. A voice she barely recognized croaked at him, "Come on Shug... You think you're bad? I can take it all baby..."

He glared at her and tried to thrust up roughly, but she timed her own movements so that it was nothing more than a futile gesture. She laughed and shook her head at him. "Oh no, Momma's the boss". Another half-hearted lunge met with another squeeze of her thigh muscles.

"Give it to me...I want it Shug, cumonnn".

She felt him stiffen, beginning at his toes. "Yeah Sugar, do it"

"Do it"

"DO IT- come on you sonofabitch!" She thrust down on each syllable, fucking him now. She willed his orgasm to come, and was rewarded.

He threw his head back and growled. His hands tore free of hers and pounded the sofa cushions on either side of them, grasping for non-existent handles as she felt the first throb of his climax. She ground down against him, trying to swallow him whole. His eyes damn near popped out of his head as he fired the first volley into her.

She tried to count the shots but couldn't, her mind was too concerned with the sensation of sucking his soul up through the end of his prick to worry about the math. She felt him fill her, then sag defeated and spent under her.

The muscles of her thighs and back were eventually able to send a message through to her clouded brain and she had to roll off of him. Her hair was plastered to her, a long spitcurl was embedded in his forehead- even the hair on his legs was soaked and flattened.

With more bravado than she felt, she reached for the tequila bottle. Taking a long slug she wiped her parched lips with a thin arm and looked up at him with an evil grin.

"Just wait- it gets really hot in September."