Pussy Hound

Sheryl shook her head. "Thinking has nothing to do with it, Faith. Their pricks have complete control over them. When are you going to understand that?"

Faith always resented Sheryl's condescension, but she shook it off. "Hey, I love my vagina, too, but at least I try to pay attention to who's ever fucking me." One of the high schoolers turned her head toward Faith sharply. Sheryl stared her down.

"That's because you're a sensitive, nurturing woman, dear. We have no idea what it feels like to have a hard-on, but as soon as a man gets one, he turns into a machine. I don't care who he is, a rocket scientist, a brain surgeon, they all become morons when they're aroused. And once the screwing starts, guys go into orbit and don't come back until they finish. We might as well be inflatable dolls."

They sipped their lattés and considered the wisdom of Sheryl's observation. Faith was a good deal less jaded than her companion, and enormously less experienced - but, then, who wasn't? - so she had to admit she was hardly in a position to disagree.

Not that she had reason to. Her own experience, which wasn't exactly limited, confirmed that, with few exceptions, men were not generous in matters of sex. Faith's lovers had generally fallen into the proverbial two groups: those who were boring and seemingly apathetic, and those who were passionate and seemingly in a different room. Passionate was better, sure, but both were frustrating, and frustration and sex did not mix, although they did seem to travel together quite a lot.

"Well, isn't there some way to get a man's attention when he's fucking?" Faith asked earnestly. "I mean, I can't even get a guy to French kiss long enough to notice me while we're doing it. Don't some men try to show some fucking consideration?"

Sheryl leaned back in her chair. If she'd had a long, grey beard, she would have stroked it in a philosophical way. "In my time, I have heard of such men, of course. But to be perfectly honest, sweetie, in all my years in the sack, I have yet to meet one, let alone fuck one. They are as rare as they are wonderful." She became momentarily lost in thought, as she daydreamed about one particularly gentlemanly lover. Faith brought her back to consciousness.

"I just don't understand how that can be. Men and women have been having sex forever, and they should have evolved together to achieve some kind of balance. Instead, men expect women to do all kinds of exotic things, and all they do in return is fuck like a piston until they cum like an animal. Christ, the law of averages alone should produce better lovers!" The students stopped talking and pretended not to eavesdrop.

Sheryl gave Faith a pitying look. There was really nothing more to say; the world worked the way it worked and there was no point in getting upset about something that wasn't going to change. They finished their coffee, hugged and parted.

e

Sheryl first delivered herself into sexual oblivion at the tender age of thirteen at the onset of her biological ripening. There was no calculation and no deviancy, just a full appreciation of one more amazing thing to which her young, strong body was so well suited. Sheryl loved all kinds of sports and she took quickly and easily to anything involving a stick or a ball, especially anything edged with speed or fear. Riding horses was her favorite, a rare treat in which she hugged the animal's much larger body with every inch of her own, from her heels and ankles, strong calves and thighs, her tiny butt and sharp pelvis dug well in, her flat belly and tiny breast buds pressed against the beating neck muscles, the mane in her face as her own dark hair flew backward in the wind, her strong, thin fingers telling the horse to run as fast as he'd like, as fast as he could, oh, please, can't you go faster?

Her cousin Teddy was her regular riding partner. Teddy owned his own horse and took her to the riding club as his guest. Sheryl learned to accept the leering glances of the adult males as she traversed the clubhouse behind Teddy, keeping up with his long strides. As puberty overcame her, she began to notice appreciatively how his ass moved in his tight riding pants, but she did not separate in her mind the incipient sexual feelings arising from the anticipation of the ride or the powerful stimulation of the headlong rush of pounding through the fields on horseback.

One cool October afternoon, the cousins enjoyed a particularly grueling ride and they decided to walk the heaving horses back to the barn for the last half-mile. Despite the briskness of the day, both teenagers shone with sweat and their faces were flushed from hyperventilating. It felt good to be alive on such a day, tingling from head to toe, laughing comfortably at nothing.

As they passed a stand of birch trees, Sheryl tethered her horse to a tree and flopped on her back to bake her freckles in the undiminished sunlight of midday. Teddy did the same, the top of his head touching hers. When he asked her a question, she turned to answer him, with their faces so close that their noses touched and their eyes refocused. At such a moment, it was impossible not to kiss.

Had they not been newly teenaged, had they not had such an invigorating ride, and had they not been damp with their own clean sweat, the kiss might have been a cousinly peck that dissolved into friendly laughter. But he was fourteen and she thirteen, and the ride had been thrilling, and their bodies were warm and supple. Sheryl had kissed a few boys before, but never in such splendid outdoors isolation and never while laying on the ground in immediate physical proximity. She gathered Teddy in her arms and legs, and he did the same, and their pelvises crashed into each other as if they knew what they were doing. When her handsome cousin opened his mouth she did the same, and she responded reflexively when his tongue invaded her. She had heard of French kissing, but this was her first time, and its overwhelming significance was not lost on her.

Sheryl was a smart and sassy kid, and there wasn't the least thing slutty about her, but she was about to discover her affinity and skill for sex. Her athletic body took to foreplay like any other new sport, and it simply did not occur to her to restrain herself out of some undefined notion of propriety.

Teddy had never encountered such an ardent lover and lost himself equally in her heated mouth and fierce embrace. His prick responded purposefully, and he drove his groin into her without thinking. She reciprocated with equal stupidity, feeling the electric reaction between her legs, and brought her hand from his back to his growing hardness. Their mutual thrusting intensified, and they ate each other's mouths as indecently as they possible could.

As Teddy grabbed Sheryl's writhing ass, she could not direct enough pressure to satisfy the unbearable tingling in her crotch. She pushed him onto his back and climbed up to rub herself painfully onto his accomplished hard-on, taking complete control now of her own pleasure. She bucked furiously and left him no escape, and they both closed their eyes and came ferociously in their pants.

She collapsed onto Teddy, gasping for breath but not breaking their kiss, and she guided his hands onto her grateful breasts. He squeezed them much too hard, not understanding their exquisite sensitivity, and Sheryl could forgive him only if he did it again. He did, this time pinching her rigid nipples, which caused another tremor in her crotch. She forcefully unbuttoned her shirt and wrestled herself out of her training bra, and pulled his mouth to suck on her buds. At first, he was too gentle, and she thrust her breast into his face and grabbed the back of his head to let him know she meant business. He was a good student, and she descended gratefully back into senselessness.

The sight and touch of Sheryl's bare chest - not to mention her aggressive seizing of control of the heated situation - revitalized Teddy's attention and began to bring his sopping wet prick back to life. A feeling of inevitability enveloped them as one organism. They rudely kicked off their riding boots, and Sheryl collected herself to focus on unbuckling his belt. She grabbed his hardening pick roughly as they escaped from their pants, and its growing size was thrilling. She wanted to fuck him like a slave.

She shuddered uncontrollably when his fingers intruded into her slit, but she spread her exposed thighs to help him make his way inside her. The heel of his hand brushed against her clitoris, and the jolt made her grab his hand and press against her with all her strength. She splattered his hand in a way that made her swoon.

There was no turning back now. His cock was as big and hard as an organ made of flesh could become. This time, Teddy pushed Sheryl on her back, which she accepted eagerly. She separated her dust-covered thighs and held his still sticky prick at its base, directing him inside her with purpose. Her legs seized his back, preventing an escape he had no interest in making, and with one heroic effort, they tore away the protection of her hymen with the aid of an involuntary but simultaneous shout of completion.

Sheryl felt insane with pleasure and she silently begged her cousin never to stop fucking her. For reasons she could never understand, she reached around behind him with one hand and rudely touched his asshole with her middle finger, while the other hand gently cupped his balls from behind. Teddy responded like a race horse, and Sheryl's legs released his back and her feet flailed in the air to create the widest possible opening for his attack. Teddy's prick was thin but long, and she couldn't stand any kind of withdrawal from her cavity, so she used her greedy hands to urge him to impale her completely. With even partial escape thus prevented, his thrusts hammered her into the dry grass.

Afterward, she was unable to grasp the concept of orgasm as some kind of distinguishable event that sometimes happened during intercourse - and sometimes did not. Her dedication to fucking Teddy and being fucked by him was complete and unreserved, and she crashed through repeated and rising waves of killing spasms with the expectation that an infinite supply were on the way. There was a mutual reward to their combined effort, to which she devoted herself with sweat and flying dirt. Her noises became hysterical, and eventually Teddy joined in, peaking with a warming sensation in her battered cunt that seemed to take forever to subside. The pulsation continued for an unknowable amount of time, as they tongued each other's mouths to attempt to express the full measure of their mutual gratitude.

Since that first time, Sheryl's flowering had become not only noticeable to one and all; instead, it defined her. Everywhere she went she found herself fixed in the gaze of men and boys, women and girls, their carnality transparent and raw. At first she was surprised, thinking each instance was singular and unremarkable. Soon, though, she realized that these were not isolated episodes, but part of a predictable and expected pattern. After finding herself reflected in the searing stares of dozens of strangers, she began to realize that there was something about her appearance that attracted sexual attention. By the time the number had grown to hundreds, she had long since realized that her appearance was exceptional. Not only had she become used to it, she accepted it as the natural order of things, and saw herself as others saw her, as beautiful, ripe and fine.

Before long, of course, people did not merely look, and she was accosted by strangers on a regular basis. Teachers, Starbucks baristas, mailmen, receptionists, librarians, waiters and waitresses, doctors, delivery men, convenience store clerks, relatives, classmates, and other human beings, various and sundry, overcame their respective levels of reticence, whatever they might be, and asked, in one way or another, to get inside what they knew to be her delicious pants.

Getting hit on so often was a profound teacher and Sheryl quickly learned how to master any sexual overture. She learned when a simple refusal would work, and when a firmer response was required. She learned how to say yes, as well, in all its many shadings and variations. She could calibrate her acceptance to control the situation precisely; a new lover was made to understand the boundaries in a way that he (or she) would not dare to transgress. The high school principal received his blow job behind closed doors and knew not to ask for more. She let her uncle finger fuck her in his car and he accepted his hand job gratefully. The janitor had her in the closet, as she took the biggest cock she'd ever seen from behind, the old man rising to the occasion and leaving her nearly unable to walk.

Gynecological exams almost always got out of control. The first time she'd removed her clothing and heaved herself into the stirrups, the nurse tried to contain herself, but failed miserably. When she asked Sheryl if she was sexually active, Sheryl replied, "Yes, but not today." When she fixed the nurse with a lewd expression, her examiner became undone and shuddered with embarrassment. Recovering her composure, but not her self-control, she placed her palms on Sheryl's creamy thighs, and slowly lowered her face into her wide opening. Sheryl writhed appreciatively as the nurse held her pelvis in a firm grip, and invaded her cunt as deeply as her tongue would allow.

h

As soon as Faith walked in the door, she called Stacey to continue the conversation she'd started with Sheryl. Faith had convinced herself during the ride home that Sheryl was just showing off. Surely there were plenty of available men who appreciated the gift a woman gave every time she consented to sex, every time she exposed her imperfect body to the silent judgment of her lover. When a woman who was a skillful and creative sex partner - and Faith was both - was naked and fully attentive in bed, when she left her shame elsewhere and did all she could to thrill his prick and his ass and his legs and his mouth, it seemed inevitable that the man would think of nothing beyond how he could return the exquisite favor.

Stacey's response was a curt as it was disappointing. "Sheryl's absolutely, 100% right. All men are selfish pigs in the sack."

"All men? Come on, Stace!"

"Well, I've never met one who wasn't. I've had good sex and bad sex and so-so sex and great sex, but I've never, ever had sex where the man tried to make me feel as good as I tried to make him feel. Not one damned time."

Faith shook her head in dismay. "I can't believe this. How did this happen? So much has changed, and guys still screw like mindless animals?"

"Well," offered Stacey, "a mindless animal with a nice fat cock can be a beautiful thing. But I learned long ago to lower my expectations, and it sounds like it's time you did, too."

Faith was not ready to concede. "I still can't believe all women feel this way. Hang on, I'm going to conference Kate in."

"Don't tell her what you think!" Stacey interjected quickly. "Let her give her own answer."

Kate's voice made it a threesome. "Hey, ladies. What's up?"

"Faith and I wanted your opinion about something. Do you think all men are selfish in bed?"

"What!" Kate laughed uncontrollably until she coughed and spluttered, before regaining the power of speech. "Let me guess which one of you rocket scientists think the answer is no: Faith?" Stacey screamed a laugh, and Kate joined in the good time at Faith's expense.

"Come on, Faith! Have you ever had a lover who cared about your needs as much as you cared about his?" Faith admitted that she hadn't, but protested that didn't mean there weren't any.

"Maybe not," Kate replied, "but it doesn't mean there are, either. Maybe where there isn't smoke, there isn't fire. Maybe at least one of the three of us would have had just one by now." When Stacey interjected that Sheryl hadn't found one, either, Kate couldn't contain herself. "Jesus Christ, Faith! If fucking Sheryl who has had more sex than anyone in the fucking Western hemisphere hasn't found a generous guy, there's a pretty fucking good chance they don't exist!"

Faith reluctantly conceded that Kate had a point. They agreed to convene an emergency meeting of the Wine Club and said goodbye.

h

Between Sheryl and Kate, it was hard to say who was the more attractive. Sheryl looked like she'd been created for the purpose of maximum sexual arousal, while Kate looked like a textbook illustration of a trophy wife, which was precisely the career to which she aspired. Her qualifications were almost ludicrously oversupplied: at 33, she still had lustrous, naturally-blonde hair, parted just off-center, that cascaded to her waist, where it crowned a tight, alert ass on which all men who beheld her thought of bouncing quarters endlessly. Her Nordic face featured impossibly clear skin that radiated wholesomeness and lubricious health, reinforced by her sharp, distinguished nose, a handsomely cleft chin, a majestic forehead above grey-green eyes of inordinate size and captivating clarity. She smiled easily with a full-on set of polished teeth that looked to be set with a carpenter's level, and her lips were symmetrical, full and inviting. She never wore lipstick or makeup, never woke up with bed head, and undoubtedly could come in from a hurricane looking ready for a Victoria's Secret photo shoot. She had, of course, the slim, long-waisted and small-breasted body of a lingerie model, whose most arresting feature was her absurdly perfect legs, which of course required neither stockings nor elegant shoes, but showed off both to jaw-dropping advantage.

Unlike poor Beth, whose mind was perpetually in the gutter but who couldn't seem to attract a sexual partner with a gun, Kate's pickup line - "Would you like some company?" - never missed. Of course, in Kate's case, "Excuse me, do you happen to know what time it is?" would have worked every bit as well, and she was exceedingly careful to deploy her powers of attraction only in the direction of the most deserving prospects. She had had precisely as much sexual experience as she wanted, which was a considerable amount, while preserving at all times the air of refined elegance which she knew would someday stand her in good stead with an appropriate Master-of-the-Universe husband.

h

Kate's sexual beginning had a ring of the trite tale of the mistreated baby-sitter, but with the surprising twist that she found the experience neither degrading nor distressing. Kate's burning powers of attraction had turned on like a light switch when she was barely thirteen, which coincided perfectly with her readiness to watch the neighborhood kids and give the parents a rare night out for a couple of hours. Wives had the intuitive sense to worry about Kate's radiant appeal, and husbands found themselves helpless in her proximity.

On the night of her deflowering, Kate was sitting almost a mile away from her own house when she stumbled on to Mr. Bank's stash of pornographic DVDs. She put the kids to bed and lost herself in masturbatory indulgence to the point that she was caught completely unawares with one hand deep inside her pants and the other buried beneath her training bra when she heard the front door open. She only had enough time to wildly grab the remote and shut the TV off with the DVD still spinning away in the player. Her clothes were still askew and her face was flushed crimson when Mr. Banks sauntered into the room to ask if the kids had been good. As she stammered a reply, he pretended not to understand that he'd caught her doing what he himself had done so many nights in this same room.

The ride home was excruciating. Mr. Bank's transparent efforts at small talk were not easing the tension even a little, and he seemed as mortified as she was. In truth, he was overcome with thoughts of fucking Kate with abandon, and his synapses were firing chaotically. Kate stole a glance at him when he made a left turn, and she was stunned to see his straining erection clearly visible through his khaki pants. Her brain catapulted back to the massive pricks in the porn videos that drove her fingers deep into her wet pussy, and she looked away and clutched the armrest as she surrendered to graphic visions of her cunt invaded by his obviously sizeable cock.