Long, Hot Summer Ch. 02

Sally was rolling up the too-long sleeves of her jacket as I leaned across her to punch my card. I thought I heard her take a deep sniff.

"What, do I smell bad?" I said. "I got kind of sweaty running from the parking lot."

"No," she smiled. "You're good."

We went out to the floor, and the cool of the store, and I realized that I may have been redolent with something more like eau du vagin.

Instead of getting that quick shower I'd hoped for an hour earlier, I'd gotten fucked. After Suzie Bowen had sucked my cock back to hardness, her full breasts swaying and brushing my thigh as she bobbed up and down while I lay fully naked and supine on her narrow bed, she straddled my hips and guided the bulging head of my dick between the slick lips of her cunt.

I was half-hoping for a slight pause, a moment of recognition about the threshold we were both about to cross. But she was focused on the actual sight of this penetration. That was okay. I realized, in hindsight, that this was a purely carnal moment for her. It didn't take anything away from how incredibly hot the episode appeared to me: her head bowed and her hair hanging down, curtaining either side of her face; her hand wrapped around the base of my shaft; on her knees with her legs spread and her thighs trembling slightly from the effort to go slow, or anticipation, or both; that light, brown puff of hair slowly eclipsing my ruddy cockhead. I reached up and took her soft dangling tits in my palms. Everything was on display and tracing an erotic visual trajectory. This virginity-losing snapshot was better than most get.

I imagined the narration going on in her head at that moment, reciting a description from one of the stroke stories she'd read that morning before I arrived: Slowly, I brought myself down over the thick, bulging head, until the entire throbbing length of his engorged, meaty cock was buried to the hilt in my tight, needy little cunt.

"God, that feels good," I said.

"Yeah?" she grunted. She had my entire cock inside her.

"Yeah. Are you going to fuck it?"

"Gimme a second." She was shifting her hips slightly from side to side. "Okay," she said finally, put her hands on my chest, and began to slide up and down on my cock.

She fucked me, bouncing up and down on my hardon, riding it with increasing intensity until she was literally slamming herself down on me, our hip bones banging. I tried to give her the words that I thought she needed, or enjoyed.

"Take it," I repeated. "That that cock. Fuck it. Fuck it with that hot pussy."

"My cunt," she panted.

"Fuck it with that hot little cunt," I said.

"Ahhh... fuck!" she barked. "Fuck my cunt. Fuck. My. Cunt. Don't stop... don't stop... keep fucking it..."

But I really wasn't doing anything. She was the one pounding the shit out of me.

"Oh fuck!" she slammed down especially hard and stayed down. Her fingers gripped my chest. Her eyes were closed and her entire body shook with an orgasm.

After about half a minute she opened her eyes and, I swear, looked at me like she was surprised to find me there. She sat up and raked her hair back.

"Did you come?" she said.

"Not yet," I said.

"Okay," she exhaled heavily, still panting from her efforts. She dismounted me, turned around, straddled my stomach facing the other direction, and knee-walked back until her pussy was above my mouth.

"Just lick it a little bit," she said. "But not too hard. I'm a little sore. Don't worry about making me come again, I don't think I can right now. I just want to feel your tongue."

Her pussy was soaked. There was a white froth around her cunt lips and clinging to her bush. I smeared it around a bit with my fingers, then lightly brought my tongue tip in contact with her hole. She had a mildly astringent and faintly metallic taste.

She immediately went to work on my cock, using her technique of sucking lips and twisting hand—that finishing move she'd read about. My mouth and chin were soon slick with her cum, juices, and sweat.

She took her mouth from me but kept stroking my spit-soaked dick.

"When you're ready to come," she said, "tell me to take it. Like you did before. Tell me to take your load."

"I'm really close," I said.

She took me back in her mouth, sucking and stroking.

"I'm gonna come," I said. "Oh fuck, take it. Take my load. Take my hot load!"

"Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm," she repeated as my hips heaved upward and I spurted another load of jizz into her mouth. She kept sucking, stroking, and swallowing through the entire cumshot, and a little beyond, until my body was jerking involuntarily from her lips on my over-sensitive cockhead, and I begged her to stop. She sat up and climbed off me, turned around and knelt on the bed, back on her heels.

"Not so much this time," she drew the back of her hand across her mouth.

I lay there panting. After months of necking, tame petting, and a couple reluctant handjobs, we'd combined for eight orgasms within a little more than twelve hours. She'd come on my face, my fingers, and my cock. She'd swallowed three loads of my cum and jerked out two.

"I'm surprised there was any at all," I said between deep breaths.

Weekday mornings at the A&P were often slow. Only two registers were open, and Sally moved back and forth between them filling paper sacks while I did some of the other heavy work in advance of the typically busier afternoons. The grocery bags came in 60 pound wrapped bundles, and I had to drag them all the way out from the back on a hand truck, unwrap them and restock the registers. I'd finished that, and just come back in from the sweltering parking lot after rustling a long train of shopping carts. When Sally finally caught my eye, she motioned me over with a wag of her head.

"The Hillbilly wants us to take our breaks," she said. "You should go first."

The Hillbilly was her name for our store manager, Mr. Byrd. A&P had just transferred him up from a West Virginia store a few weeks before. He was a tall, lanky guy who really didn't smile or talk, just gave orders and hid up in the cage most of the day chain-smoking.

"You sure?" I said. "You can go if you want, I'm okay."

"No, go ahead, it's cool. You need a butt?" She took a Marlboro and book of matches from the pocket of her jacket and slipped it into the pocket of mine.

I took a piss and splashed cold water on my face and neck, then went out the back to the receiving dock. Out in the back lot beyond the bay there were several "boulders" scattered. All the cardboard the A&P discarded—there were mountains of it—were tossed into this great, infernal device in the rear of the store that compressed it into bales bound with thick steel straps. The bales were enormous, probably seven foot square and weighed a ton. They were solid, immobile, so we called them "boulders." If you crashed your car into one, well, then you had a fucked-up car: the boulder wouldn't budge. I knew they ran them out of the store and dropped them back there using a fork lift, but I never got to see whatever monstrous behemoth came and gobbled them up, took them away.

I'd smoked about half the cigarette when Sally came out.

"Shoot, are my fifteen minutes up?" I said.

"No, you're good," she said. "You still have a few minutes. The Hillbilly just had me haul a bag of trash back to The Shithole."

I handed her the cigarette and she took a drag.

"Late night, busy morning?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess. Kind of."

"What'd'ya have for breakfast?"

"Huh? Um, nothing really. Juice."

"You should eat more." She handed me the Marlboro. "I'm going back. You have five more minutes."

"Okay," I said, and thought, What did I have for breakfast?

That night, Suzie Bowen sucked me off in the dark on her front porch swing while her mother was inside watching television.

Like when she jerked me off the night before at the drive-in, I had my pants open and I pulled the waistband of my underwear down while she jerked and sucked my dick. My balls were wet from her spit running down my shaft. I'd pulled up the back of her sundress and was running my finger up and down her wet slit from behind. I could hear Charlie's Angels theme music coming from the living room as I pumped my load in her mouth. She stayed in that position, my softening cock still between her lips, as I continued to finger her from behind, not sure if I was hitting the right spots for her until she grunted and started to shake. The porch swing chains twanged from the vibrations.

After a little recovery time just swinging and saying nothing, she went to the screen door and told her mother we were taking a walk. Instead, she led me to a dark strip of lawn between her detached garage and the next-door neighbor's house. I lay bare-assed in the dewy grass while she rode my cock like she had that morning. She came again, then lay flat atop me, trying to catch her breath. She asked me if I'd come and I told her I hadn't. I was still hard inside her.

"You need to come in my cunt," she whispered. "I need to feel what it's like when you come inside me." She sat back up and started riding me again, this time intent on making me finish inside her, which I did, in short order, for the very first time.

Over the next five days, I pumped so many loads into Suzie Bowen that I can't reliably remember every instance. We kept a standing morning date at her house, after her mother went to work. If I had my ten o'clock morning shift to go to, we usually had enough time for both of us come twice, sometimes three times for her.

Sometimes we read one of the Penthouse letters and followed the pattern of the encounter described. I read the description of the fucking aloud if the narrator was a man, or she would read it if the narrator was a woman. I didn't need to tell her anymore when I was about to come, but I usually did because she liked to hear the words, and I really liked to hear them too. Sometimes we'd say the actual dialogue from the story if it was something we agreed was hot, dirty, and turned us on. She'd say, "Take me from behind and pound my horny pussy." She'd say, "That's it, fuck it, fuck that teenage cunt." She'd say, "Pump all your hot, thick cream in my mouth, give me a big load."

She got on the bed on all fours and let me fuck her from behind. She lay on her back and had me bend her legs back toward her head while I pile-drove her missionary style. She stuck out her tongue and jacked my cock off over it, so I could see the spurts of my cum shooting into her mouth, because that's how one of the woman in one of the stories finished her partner. She asked me to pull out and shoot my load on her chest, and then massaged the semen over her breasts until they were all slippery and shiny.

She liked to say "cunt," and liked to hear me say it when she was close to coming. We discovered that she liked me eating her out while she straddled my face, grinding her pussy against my mouth. She came hard that way. We further discovered that she really liked it after I'd filled her pussy with cum. Prior to this whole turn of events, if someone had asked me if I would lick out a girl's pussy after I'd come in it, I expect I would have said "no." But in the raw, carnal context of what we were doing, I didn't hesitate. It wasn't like I was swallowing my own cum, though I was to a certain extent. But it wasn't "straight"; I had Suzie Bowen's juices as a mixture, and while I could taste my semen on her, mostly I tasted her.

And it was hot, an extremely hot moment, because of how much it turned her on and how hard it made her come, bracing herself against the bedroom wall above her headboard, raking her pussy back and forth over my tongue and mouth, and repeating "eat my cunt, eat my cum-filled cunt." She was lost in it, in the act, the stimulation, and ultimately the climax. Afterwards, next to me on her narrow bed, she'd just lay there panting, eyes closed, her naked body gleaming with sweat and radiating so much heat that I had to roll off the bed and lay on the floor.

Of course, the printed porn also had things going on that were new to both of us. There were threesome stories. She found the male-male-female ones most exciting, but she said she couldn't imagine ever doing such a thing and not feeling like a whore afterwards. She didn't find the girl-on-girl stories interesting at all. And stories with anal sex, well... she skipped over those completely, and that was fine with me. At that point in my still very new array of sexual experiences, I had no interest in sticking my cock in her ass or anyone else's. To be honest about it, until I read one of those stories, I had no idea that men and women even did that.

We got lucky on Saturday night. My parents attended a wedding of the daughter of one of their friends, so I brought Suzie Bowen to my house and we spent four hours fucking in my upstairs bedroom. It was hotter than hell, temperature-wise, so I had to keep the windows open. Plus, I wanted to be able to hear my parents' car in case they came home early for some reason. Not that I would have been able to get Suzie Bowen out of there in case they did, but we might at least have enough time to get our clothes on and get downstairs. Though I can't imagine how we'd avoid looking the worse for wear. We were both sweating our asses off the entire time. I could have brought up a box fan that we used downstairs, but thing was as loud as a turbine engine and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hear a car pulling into the drive.

Because of the open windows, had to keep our filthy exchanges to a soft volume. While she rode my face, grinding her recently fucked cunt against my mouth, I used a free hand to stroke my cock back to hardness. When she realized what I was doing, she spun around and took it in her mouth. Sixty-nineing like that, we both came at the same time.

Sunday was my only day off from all my jobs and from The Imbecile. She had some family picnic to attend, and that was fine with me. I wasn't pining for her or anything. I wasn't even horny until that evening after I went to bed, and lay there thinking about all the stuff we'd done. And then thinking about doing that same stuff to Eleanor Kaminski.

And then, sort of unexpectedly, I found myself thinking of little Sally Speaker: her fine straight hair and bud breasts and sharp hipbones. I imagined her tiny, skinny body atop mine, barely any weight at all, squeezing what was probably a very tight pussy down over my erect dick. Leaning down and kissing me while we fucked. The potency of that spontaneous fantasy surprised me—my cock was harder than a lamppost—but there was also something sweet about it, as well.

But I kept my hands off myself. I couldn't remember the last time I went an entire day without getting myself off or, now, having The Imbecile get me off. I flipped my pillow to the dry, cool side, and went to sleep.

I suppose it seems unkind that I still referred to Suzie Bowen as The Imbecile, but the truth was, she hadn't gotten any smarter. Wanting to have sex with each other was the only thing we had in common. In between those activities, things were essentially the same. I remember thinking it was too bad that eating cum didn't improve a person's intelligence, because I would have had Suzie Bowen on track for a Mensa membership.

The next morning, after our day of rest, we didn't even make it into her bedroom for the first fuck of the day. She yanked open the front door before I could ring the bell. She stood there, her shorty robe unbelted, and gave me a few seconds to take in the sight before pushing open the screen: her bare chest and the inner curve of her breasts, her nipples dark and plainly visible beneath the pale peach satin, her belly and soft bush. After she slammed, bolted, and chained the door behind us, she pulled me into the living room. She knelt, undid my jeans, and pulled them down. She lay back on the living room carpet and held out her hand to me, beckoning me down. I pulled off my t-shirt and knelt between her legs.

"Fuck the shit out of me," she said.

I moved the head of my cock up and down her slit to get it wet, and notched it in place. Then I took both of her wrists in my hands, pinned them to the floor on either side of her head, and thrust myself into her as hard as I could.

"Fuck!" she shouted.

I held myself all the way inside her for a second or two, then began to pump. I fucked her as hard as I could. I wasn't concerned about whether she would come or not this time.

"Take. That. Cock," I said, each word timed with an in-thrust. "Take. That. Hard. Fucking. Cock."

She was flexing her hips up to meet mine. She raised her head to look down and see the action of us violently connecting, my angry dick pounding into her slick, hot hole.

"You like the way that looks?" I said. "You like to see that cock pumping in and out of your little cunt?"

But she didn't answer, just continued grunting at my thrusts.

I wasn't going to last very long, and I didn't try to.

"This first load's going to be a big one," I said. "I hope you can handle it."

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," she panted.

I felt that pressure, that urge, from behind my balls rising rapidly.

"I need to come," I said. I stopped fucking her.

"No, keep going, come!" she said.

Instead of continuing and finishing inside her pussy, I let go of her wrists, moved from between her legs and knelt by her head, my red, bulging, shiny cock in my hand.

When she realized what I was doing, she said "Oh, yeah," in such a dirty, hungry way that she etched the moment on my brain forever.

She turned toward me, lifted her head off the carpet slightly, closed her eyes, and showed me her tongue. I was squeezing my cock tightly, just below the head, and when I released the pressure, a thick, forceful, and abundant stream of cum jetted into her mouth. It was a strong first shot, and it choked her, as had happened that other time. She barked out a spluttering cough, spraying my cock with some of the cum, the rest of it spilling out over her lips, down her cheek, and onto the floor. I was still coming, the shots of jizz coating her lips and chin. As my spurts subsided, she began rubbing the cum around her mouth and pushing some of it between her lips.

"Eat all that cum," I said. Then, after only the briefest hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her sticky mouth.

That morning, she was as turned on as anyone I'd ever known: probably more horny than usual because of our Sunday hiatus, but after I kissed her mouth when it was still thickly coated with my spunk, she went off like a cherry bomb as soon as I went down between her legs to lick her pussy. I kept eating her out—this was becoming my standard recovery-time activity—and with a persistent combination of tongue, fingers, and foul language, coaxed another orgasm from her. We finally relocated to her tiny bedroom where I fucked her from behind, a somewhat lengthier session where the sweat was pouring from me, raining hot on her propped-up ass, and she reached between her own legs and rubbed her clit—again, something she'd learned about through her reading—while I continued pounding her. When I told her I was going to coat the inside of her cunt with a big load of cum the way I'd coated her mouth, she started slamming her ass back against me erratically, bucking and coming. I had to wait for her to finish before I could resume the steadier, vigorous thrusting I needed to drain my balls for the second time that morning.

Despite this unexpected turn of sexual events with Suzie Bowen, as I'd mentioned when describing my previous night's musing, I hadn't lost my unrequited lust for Eleanor Kaminski. But my thoughts about her had taken a definite turn. Having very little first-hand sexual experience until recently, I typically fantasized sucking her big tits while she jerked my cock. But I'd just spent such an enlightening, sweaty number of hours with Suzie Bowen's naked body—fucking it, eating it, filling it and covering it with my semen—that I wanted to fuck Eleanor Kaminski, because now I could envision it: her broad ass jiggling like a Jell-o dessert while I fucked her from behind; her huge soft tits flopping back and forth while I pounded away on top of her; her doing that flirty little thing, biting her lower lip, after she swallowed down a big load of cum I'd just pumped into her mouth.