In for a Penny

His hand ran up the length of my body and I froze as his fingers found my breast. I began my movements again as he crushed my tit in his grasp, hoping that the bra I was still wearing would make it seem bigger than it actually was.

The sensation of his hand squeezing me invoked a spiral of pleasure that rippled from behind my nipple and warmed me to my core as it raced to join the jubilant pulsing in my nethers.

My breath caught, never had I released such a powerful lustful longing through my own touch. Sometimes it felt nice to pinch and pull at my nipples while I self-pleasured, but from his hand the sensation was unreal.

I was caught between breaths and emotions, biting my lip. I was scared to let his hand roam too much for fear he might realize I wasn't who he thought I was, and I was scared to stop him because I didn't want this to end.

In for a pound, I thought as I pushed off of him with my ass an reached between us.

"Ahhh," I sighed uncontrollably as my fingers wrapped around his shaft. It felt unfamiliar and foreign and unutterably decadent in my grasp. He groaned in my ear as I closed my fist around it, then he moaned hard and loud as I squeezed him.

Feeling him voice his pleasure in my ear with his hot breath sent tingles down my spine that set my body to trembles. I had never heard a moan like that, felt it like that. He put it in my ear and sent it to my brain and into my soul. In that moment, I knew there was nothing I wouldn't do to make him moan like that again.

His moan made me cum.

"Uh-huh-huh-hungh!" I orgasmed through gnashed teeth as my sex clenched, trying to hold it in. My hand reflexively shoved itself between my shaking jerking thighs as I pushed on my clit with the heel of my hand and covered my opening with my fingers. God there was so much wetness!

Fireworks exploded behind my eyelids, pulsing brightly with every orgasmic shudder from my body. My sides were aching with seized muscles. My toes were curled so painfully hard I wondered if I would ever straighten them again.

My other hand was still crushing his manhood in my fist as he groaned and huffed against my bonnet. As my shaking and trembling began to subside, I realized I was still rocking. Or rather, being rocked, as he worked his hips trying to slide his sex back and forth in my hand, fucking my fist.

And then his movements stopped and I froze, terrified that my moaning had given me away and it had dawned on him that I wasn't his wife. I felt him shifting behind me and then I felt his hand on mine, pushing it away as he pulled his manhood free from it.

When I felt his hand slide under my thigh and begin lifting it, I realized what was happening and my heart skipped a beat. My terror doubled back and racked me with instant uncertainty.

I had never had anything as big as him inside me before, what if I couldn't take it? Would he force it? Would I rip? And even if, would I feel like his wife? What if I didn't?

"Hmm-mm," I protested as I pushed his arm back. "The girls," I whispered as I buried my face in the pillow, hoping to muffle my voice enough that it would seem legit.

I could sense his hesitation. I could sense him fighting with the need to respect my wishes and the urge to just take me regardless. Trying to push him away was like trying to push a boulder.

"Lay back," I moaned into the pillow, again hoping I sounded like his tired wife with a muffled voice.

I had to push at him a few more times before he reluctantly let his body roll over onto the mattress.

As he did so, I grabbed the edge of the blanket and threw it up and over as I rolled over myself. I brought it down over my head as I buried my face against his hard chest. The liquor laden scent of him filled my nostrils as I slid my cheek across his warm flesh, relishing the sensation.

My hand instinctively found his dick, surely jutting majestically under the cover as it pitched a tent. I could feel it throb and thrum in my loose grasp as I softly stroked him and wondered how high up I had to go to reach the tip.

The heat under the blanket was almost palpably unbearable as I began mashing my lips against his body. I'm sure it was hotter than it seemed due to the alcohol we had drank, but I prefer to think it was from the heat coming off of our engorged steaming sex organs and carnal desires.

My mouth had been drunkenly dry during our spoon-humping but now that I was using it, my saliva was running as surely as my pussy was gushing.

I left a trail of slobber behind as I kissed and licked my way down his chest and abdomen. I told myself to hold something back, else I would run out of spit before I reached... before I reached his cock.

Oh holy shit this is it! I exclaimed to myself as my heart skipped a beat and doubled back hard. This is really happening!

I suppressed the travesty of the only blowjob I had ever given, reminding myself I had watched a ton of porn since then and had a better idea of what to do. This was it, I was ready, I was willing, and I was going to suck this dick like it had never been sucked before.

I quite kissing on him, I was over it. By his eagerness to penetrate me, I'm sure he was as well. I was ready to try my hand at pleasuring a real man.

I inched and scooted down his body, straddling his leg as I did, until my face was beside his shaft. I couldn't tell if the pounding in my ears was from my heartbeat or his own thundering throbbing.

I placed him against my cheek, feeling his hard hot pulsing flesh thrumming against my face as I rubbed against it, like a cat at the scratching post.

Slowly stroking him, I kissed his rod. I kissed it again. I sucked at his shaft like I was giving it a hickey as drool seeped from the corner of my mouth.

As I moved against his sex, I realized that I could mash and rub my clit on his shin bone and I began rocking back and forth as I caressed his sex with my face.

His scent had changed from alcohol to musky alcohol. Poignant, but not entirely off putting. He tasted of salt and sweat.

Increasing the length of my strokes, my fingers found his crown. It was bulbous, but softer than his shaft. Almost squishy, spongy. And it was slick with wetness. Sticky as my fingertips slid through it, spreading it around.

Pre-cum, I realized. That thing men do before they cum for real. I wondered if that meant he was ready or close to orgasm.

I slid my hand back down his sex as I raised my head to his tip. I shifted and adjusted my weight, getting my knees better under me as I braced myself on one hand. The thumb of my other hand slid through the spit I had left on him as my hand reached the base.

I could feel his sac against the side of my hand and realized that while I had felt penis before, I had never touched a man's balls.

There, dragging my fingertips across the soft wrinkly flesh that held his testicles, I rubbed my plump lips side to side across the underside of his helmet. Like applying lip balm, warm sticky lip balm, relishing the sensation of him thrumming against my mouth as the tip of my tongue darted in and out between my lips, poking at the soft pliant underside of his head like love nips from a cat.

If there was hair on his balls, I couldn't feel it for how fine it was. All I could feel under the folds of thin skin was the rounded malleable firmness of his man-jewels.

I placed my palm against the mound of hot tantalizing softness splayed between his legs as my fingertips grazed at the base of his shaft and scratched at the pubic hair there.

I felt him widen the gap between his thighs as he spread the leg I wasn't straddling and I tentatively increased the pressure from my palm on him. When I did, he hitched a bit, his thighs twitched, and his breath caught with a moan that I more felt in his balls than I heard with my ears.

His sex jerked hard and slapped back against my mouth. I opened it and sucked in the head of him. His hips bucked, forcing him further in than I was ready for as his shin bone jerked against my own gushing sex and swollen clit.

My sides seized and I gagged, spitting him out as my hand reflexively closed around his balls.

"Oh! Ungh! Fugg-yass!" I heard him groan loudly as he bucked with his hips again, trying to penetrate my face with his sex. My heart swelled and pounded with pride, his moaning was all the affirmation I needed to not only know I was doing well but that I should continue in earnest.

I sucked his head back between my lips, folding my tongue back to block him should he thrust again as I continued mashing and massaging his sac. I could feel his testicles under the skin, sliding and rubbing and trying to pop out from between my fingers. I could feel his thighs trembling under me.

I could sense his urgent need to thrust in my face, to drive himself deeper in my throat, to fuck my mouth, as well as I could sense him holding back and restraining himself from doing just that.

I shifted my weight again and braced myself on my elbow to free my hand. I grabbed his hot throbbing shaft and squeezed my fingers around it, to hold him steady in case his restraint crumbled. I didn't know how close he was to climax, but I wanted to take my time and immerse myself in every detailed sensation of this carnal decadent ritual of adulthood.

I was grinding on his leg, sliding back and forth in my own slathered juices as I humped at his shin. My clit, crying out for more pleasure through the pain, slid across one side of his angular bone only to feel like it was going to burst open as it switched to the other side.

It hurt. It hurt as every bit as much as it felt tremendously delightfully lascivious. I could feel my sex yearning and opening further as I slid back and forth on him, my lips trying to suck him in, the sounds of my wet folds attempting vainly to latch onto him as I fucked his leg. I could feel his knee in my gut, pushing air from my lungs and diaphragm as I rode him.

When I was confident I could hold him back by the shaft to keep him from fucking my throat so deep it unhinged my jaw, I focused on what I was doing with my mouth.

I unfurled my tongue and slid it under his head, If his pre-cum had a taste, I couldn't tell as I swirled my tongue under it and around it and across the tip. I tried to involve my teeth as little as possible as I mashed the head of his sex against the roof of my mouth.

It took real effort to regulate my breathing through my nose as I sucked him off. I don't know if the penises I had encountered were just that small or if he was just that much bigger or if my mouth was just that tiny, but I had not been prepared for the immensity of it inside me. Like an over sized bite of steak, you didn't want to spit it out but you needed to get it down as quickly as possible.

His hips were bucking harder now, his hitching breaths faster and louder. I slipped my head further down as I eased his cock further into my mouth. When it touched the back of my throat, I gagged.

I could feel tears streaming from my eyes as my body seized and clenched. My mouth and throat closed so much tighter around him. I could feel the ridge of his crown slipping in the wetness at the back of my mouth, the smoothness of his cut collar against the insides of my cheeks just behind my teeth. I could feel his vein against my tongue, throbbing and pounding with every beat of his heart as I retched and hitched and fought to keep him clamped in my already aching jaws.

It was only for a few seconds, for the air I was getting through my nose was no longer enough, and I pulled him back as I retracted my head. His exiting created a vacuum behind it as I gagged him free of my face, I was mortified that he was going to pull the alcohol I had drank earlier out with him.

He did not, but my saliva glands had gone into overdrive and I could feel thick ropy tendrils of slobber leave my mouth with him, falling against my chin and his shaft.

I rubbed my own face in it as I gulped air. The wetness of my own spit all across my cheeks as I used his cock like a brush to paint my face was cooling and soothing in the heat under the blanket.

Just as I had thought it, I felt the comforter lifting up and my heart stopped. Terror froze me in its grip as I expected the covers to be thrown back, exposing me and who I truly was.

Relief swept me when the blanket stayed in place and I realized it was just his arm reaching under it. With his hand closing around mine on his shaft, he gripped my fist and began poking and stabbing at my face with his spit slicked sex, trying to find my mouth again.

My jaws protested but I guided him back between my lips and forced them open. He was bucking with his hips, bouncing me on his leg and crushing my screaming clit, groaning and growling, as he frantically tried to fuck my face while I desperately tried to hold him back from doing just that.

Then I felt his other hand on the side of my face, trying to grip it through all the smeared slobber on my cheek. When his other hand clutched at the opposite side of my head I panicked and lost my grip on his shaft.

I gagged hard as he thrust into my mouth and down my throat, holding my head still in his hands like a vice. But it wasn't his sudden and forceful intrusion that had scared me, it was the feeling of his fingers against my bonnet, pushing at the edge of it.

If he realized it wasn't hair he was feeling, or if his fingers slipped under the seam and he felt my hair for real, he'd know I wasn't his wife.

Gagging and coughing and drooling and retching, I spit him back out as I grabbed his wrists and forced his hands to the bed on either side of his hips. I got my knees back under me and reared up, putting all my weight on his hands to hold him down.

Even though I wasn't touching his sex at all, he was humping at the air like he was still fucking my face. He must be close, I thought, as I all but unhinged my jaw and caught his manhood with my mouth.

His entire body began bucking the instant he felt the warmth and wetness of my tongue as my mouth closed around him. I squared my shoulders and tried to loosen the muscles in my neck as I bobbed my head on his sex like a pecking hen while he fucked at my face.

I only lasted a few moments. It was so much harder than I thought it would be, to pleasure him, pleasure myself on him, and breath all at the same time. As he was bucking and thrashing so wildly, I wasn't even sure he knew I was moving my head back and forth so I stopped. I tightened the muscles in my neck and held my head in place as he worked my mouth and face.

I was able to pull tiny breaths of air in from around his sex as I focused on my own. I desperately wanted to touch myself, to penetrate the folds of my screaming burning pussy with my own fingers, but I dare not release my grip on his wrists. So I continued riding his shin, crushing my clit, gushing my juices as he struggled to break free from my handhold.

"Ungh! Hungh! Don't...stop! Ungh! Guh cum!" He was wailing and babbling almost incoherently now.

"Mmmf? Hmmf? Mm-hmm mm-hmm!" I moaned around a mouthful of cock.

Yes! Yes! Cum for me daddy! Cum for me! My mind raced with all the things I wanted to scream but couldn't. My mind somersaulted with so much exhilaration that I was going to make a man orgasm that I never thought to question what would happen when he did.

Unable to control myself, I let go of his hand and reached back behind myself. I shoved my middle two fingers easily inside myself and used the backs of my fingernails to press against my clit from the inside. The immediate orgasm was unreal and explosive and soul fracturing as I fought with my swimming consciousness and seizing muscles to hold my position for Mr. Matheson.

"Oh! Ungh! Hungh!" He cried out as he grabbed the side of my head with his now free hand and exploded in my mouth. Even knowing it was coming, it was still a surprise. So much so I almost breathed it in.

I could feel him getting even harder against my tongue and the corners of my mouth just before it happened. Then it felt like he doubled, tripled, in size as he filled my mouth with his seed.

More from the surprise of the sensation than the taste, I spit him out as well as his load.

He came again, spurting up my nose and across my cheek like a geyser, covering me with his liquid heat.

I wrapped the fingers that had just been inside myself around his shaft and turned my face away as he unloaded another round. The feeling of it rising through his cock, underneath my fingers, was unlike anything I had felt. It was erotically serpentine.

"Huh! Huh! Huh!" He was gulping breath as I used his sex to spread his seed across my cheeks, painting my face with his brush.

His body shook violently a few more times and then still, his arm dropped back to the mattress as he sank into it.

Tentatively, I licked at his sex. I wanted to taste it. Even though I had spit out a mouthful without doing so, I wasn't going to have come all this way, get this far, and not find out what it was like.

In for a pound, I thought, as I laid the flat of my tongue against his softening shaft. I ran the tip of it through the warm slick slime that covered him, gathering up a bit and letting it slide back to my taste buds.

I had been cognizant of the smell when he shot some up my nose. It was mineral like, reminiscent of the aisle of cleaning products at the supermarket. The taste of it was something else, salty and spoiled, metallic and sickle sweet. Repugnant, but yet enticing.

Like catching a whiff of your earring backs as you take them off, a smell no one should like but somehow you still did.

I continued stroking him softly as he went limp in my grip, feeling the warmth of his seed as it ran down the backs of my fingers.

I crossed my leg over his so that I was completely between his legs, and crouched there so I could massage my dripping sex with my other hand, rubbing the wetness over and across my painfully throbbing and sensitive sex button.

When I felt his hands caressing my shoulders, I eased back on my knees and crawled up the length of his body. I took care to keep the blanket over me, though I desperately wanted to feel and breath fresh air after being stifled by the heat of our passion.

I managed to get one of his hands between us as I laid across his chest, confining it. The other I held fast, lacing my fingers between his, holding it so it wouldn't roam.

"God I've missed you so much, Tiff," he murmured as I nestled into him.

"I've missed you too... babe," I whispered into his chest, hesitating when I almost called him 'dad.'

It was an effort to fight off sleep as I waited for him to succumb first. Although it took only minutes, I was drifting away when his snoring brought me back. I waited a few more moments to make sure he was good and gone before I started easing myself off of him and out of the bed.

Through better judgment, I leaned back over him and softly kissed his lips. It was risky, but it seemed right. Romantic. Necessary.

On shaking trembling legs, I fought to keep my balance as I grabbed my pants and shirt and socks and slippers and crept out of the bedroom and to the bathroom down the hall.

I turned on the faucet, barely more than a drip for fear a steady stream would seem deafening as I regarded myself in the mirror.

God what a mess, I thought as I looked at the drying flaking smears of Mr. Matheson's seed all across my face, the streaks of dried tears down my cheeks, the puffiness of my eyes, the wild bedhead my hair had become.

With a rag, I wiped at my face, and regarded myself a woman. With pride and accomplishment, I was a child no longer. I smiled mischievously at myself as I tried not to think about the deceit I had used to get it.

My smile faded as shame clouded my eyes. I looked away from the mirror and emptied my bursting bladder on the toilet. The relief was enough to make my eyes water all over again. Or maybe it was the shame of what I had just done.