Summer Mood, Southern Belle

I was lost in the rapture of her wetness, so lost I almost forgot her "affront" earlier.

"I'm sure I would love to, but I simply haven't forgiven you yet."

At first she looked down at me, puzzled and frustrated that we'd come so far just to stop for a crime she hadn't committed. Then she caught on to my joke and gave her ass a little wiggle.

"Oh, please, hon? Please?"

She slid up my dick an inch then plowed back down.

"Just forgive me this once?"

I couldn't resist the gleam in her eye any longer. My hands slid down her back to her round ass and settled there. I gave her cheeks a squeeze, then hoisted her up, almost until I pulled out, then slid my aching dick back inside her. She huffed in pleasure and shut her eyes. We began slowly, my hands guiding her lithe, tight body up and down my shaft. Her hair gleamed in the morning light and those gorgeous curls bounced in time with her round, firm tits. I could feel her juices sliding down my dick every time I pulled her up. It was sensory overload.

Just as she pressed her hands on my shoulders and upped our tempo, I could feel the tension in my balls building. She had been panting quiet huffs of pleasure that were growing more ragged and drops of sweat were rolling from her brow, dripping onto those pert breasts. I didn't think I could wait much longer.

"Uh, I'm going, unh...to..."

Her lips stole away what words were coming from my own as she bounced on my dick hard once, twice, three times. Her short fingernails clawed into my chest and I sensed a sudden tension in her pussy. I was on the very verge by then and was eagerly awaiting her release.

Then she pulled back from the kiss and did it again. Her bottom lip just barely curled under her front teeth, that exhilarating nibble, and I couldn't hold out. Right as she began her own climax, I erupted into her pussy. I could feel ropes of cum launching from my dick, coating her inner walls. While my dick seized and leapt within her, her pussy tugged and shook at me and our juices continued to blend inside her pussy. Throughout, she kept riding me, and gradually our juices began to ooze out from our union. I could feel wetness rolling down my shaft, down my balls, onto the hand-stitched leather couch. I could feel our warmth coating my genitals. My head was spinning with the intensity of that orgasm.

Finally, when our organs ceased their shuddering and our hearts started to slow, her body collapsed on top of me. I could taste the faint saltiness of the dewy sweat on her skin and could smell our sex. Her tresses tumbled over my face as she gasped into my neck. My hands began to roam up her back, to her smooth shoulders, then, up, up to cup her face.

As I looked into those deep green eyes, taking in all the sweltering passion of this gorgeous older woman, I flashed a smirk.

"I suppose I can forgive you about the drink..."

She glanced at me with a twinkle in her eye, sensing that something more was coming.

"...but it hardly seems polite that I never got to see your lovely home."

I was hoping to ring a teasing note with the southern girl in her. When I saw a sly smile creep onto her lips, I knew I'd played just the right tune.

"Don't worry, sweetie. How about after that drink," she cooed while giving me a pick on the forehead, "We go explore together? My husband is very proud of the things he's made in this house and insisted I show them all to you."

I had never pulled out from our blissful union on that hand-stitched couch, and had never quite gone soft after that incredible orgasm either. I could feel my cock stirring at her subtle offer.

"Did he say when he'd be home?"

In her eyes was all the mischief I was coming to expect from this vixen.

"You're all mine until lunch, hon."

She kissed me again on the forehead, then whispered in my ear, "...and well on through supper."

When my cock stirred again, I lifted her off me and took my position between her legs again.

"Well that's good," I replied as I began to run my tongue along her messy cunt, "because I'm still sooooo hungry."

About a week later, my phone buzzed before my 4:30am alarm.

"Hey, I have to get to work early today," the email read. "I hate to leave the wife alone in that big house. She tells me you really appreciated my handiwork and liked your company; could you swing by?"

I told them in my reply to the ad that school and work really limited my time. But this was a one-month stand. School could wait. And my vagabonding girlfriend could take her time coming home.

I was absorbed into something all new.