The Need For Weed

"Arhggg!" Her cry was coarse, throaty, animal. Her body clenched tight around me, writhing, long legs crushing me to her while inner walls squeezed, trying to force the invader out. That squeezing, reflexive attempt to expel my intrusion provided the opposite motivation: to press instead deeper, resisting and overcoming her reactionary defense.

My ragged breaths almost drowned out the pounding in my arteries. I held myself inside her, maintaining a straining pressure to retain my position. It was an effort to resist both her squeezing contractions and my urge to slide back, then hard into her. And repeat. With Carrie I could extend her orgasms for agonizing moments of frozen times, seemingly endless, if I angled my thrusts upward enough to rub across her crinkly-tight area sometimes called the g-spot, and kept a deep steady rhythm.

Looking down, I drank in the sight below: Eva was striking, almost a caricature of femininity, a woman whose beauty I had seen her use to sway men and women almost casually. Eva had no sway over me, no control. She had given that to me, or I had taken it, bolstered by Weed's encouragement. A rush of power roared through me.

She cried out at my first thrust. And the second. The tension of the climax had been beginning to ease, now returned. I forced myself in close between her open thighs, levering my head in harder against my targeted spot. Heavy breasts shook with an increasing shudder. Large dark nipples were sucked in hard. I saw panic in her big eyes. Her own body was surprising her, betraying her.

I found the hard stroking rhythm that pushed Carrie past any resistance. Eva's mouth hung open, slack, voicing a low wordless groan in time with each inward reopening thrust.

"No."

"Yes."

"I can't."

You will."

"You're making me."

"I am."

"Please."

"I am."

She whined in answer.

"Give me what I want, Eva."

"I can't. I already..."

"You're holding back, Eva. Let go."

"I can't."

Feel that tension, that pressure in your belly?" I held the thrust in, grinding the head in a hard circle against her tensing inner wall, concentrating against that spot that was one of the most direct ways to Carrie's deepest climaxes.

"Yeah. Oh god, yes. No. No. I can't." She was shaking her head side to side. "Please no. Don't make me. It's too much."

I sat back enough to take my weight off my arms. It did two things, both intended to push Eva past and through the final barrier to her release. The first thing was curl my swollen, fat head harder against her g-spot.

The second was to free both my hands. Both of them now trailed down her naked body, the body I had been staring at, comparing with her daughter's lithe and leaner one. Her chest heaved for breath under my touch.

When they found twin soft-firm breasts, Eva sucked in a gasp. Both thumbs traced circles over hard raised nipples. Not hard, but I pinched each, rolling, pulling up enough to stretch full cups into near-cones.

Eva cried out, whining, arching her back as she wriggled, impaled on me. I thrust. Hard, short strokes intent on strumming the tensions inside us both, strumming an already vibrating string inside her louder. Her eyes showed almost all white, rolled back further than her head the thin moaning whine continued.

"Good girl." I released my tugging hold on her nipples with reluctance, but it was time. Keeping Eva at this peak, teasing her nearer a tall precipice, had brought me close again.The arch in her back dropped. She relaxed into a long exhale. I could see dark pupils, unfocused, returning to view.

I stroked a hand down between her breasts as they again settled outward with gravity. I stroked the other hand lower, over the central spiral of the torsioning pressure twisting tight inside her smooth shuddering belly. I pressed down with the hand between her breasts, on the center of her chest, as her exhale ended.

It wouldn't stop her from drawing a breath, but the pressure was enough for her to feel constricted and her eyes went wide. My hips began to move, faster, harder, urgent. "It's time to let that tension go."

"Fuck." My lower hand had stopped, cupping her smooth, bare mound. The shaking was obvious under my palm. My thumb pushed through soft folds to where I slid into her, providing an extra sensation along the top of the shaft. Slippery, it pulled up, found a swollen button, just above.

"Oh. My. Fuck." The arch was back, held in check by my pressure on her sternum. Her eyes stayed with me, locked in mine above panting lips. I could see her nostrils flare with each inhale.

I thrust hard. "That's right."

Thrust. "Fuck." Her body vibrated under me. My thumb continued, concentrated ovals. Thrust. Thrust.

I had to force the next words out, my jaw clenched. "Give it to me, little girl. Show me how a good slave cums."

Her sweet, full lips opened wide in a silent scream. Her body, her belly, her core erupted under me. Hips bucked and I had to catch myself from falling forward onto Eva's chest. She writhed, twisting as a deep haunting moan escaped her.

I grabbed her arms below the shoulder when I felt her almost force me out of her, shoved myself deep. That did it.

Years of flirting, teasing, and stolen glances. The sudden power of a virtuoso, bringing this exquisite instrument to her - to our - crescendo. It was too much.

Pinning her tense, vibrating body in the triangle of my hands and my impaling need, I shoved into her once more with a groan, exploding. My eyes slammed shut at the sensation, pumping into Eva with an almost animal need to empty myself.

It was what she needed. To push her over that final edge, off the precipice.

I felt her clenching around me before I heard the scream.

I don't know when I released her arms, when my body dropped down to crush her under mine, when my hands found twin grips on her tiny round cheeks as I continued to lunge and pump into her depths.

I was aware of the scream. It seemed to be radiating from the center of her body as well as her throat, from her voice and from the thrumming string inside - now achingly in glorious tune. I could see it as well as hear it, and I followed it like a surfer on a wave, riding the cresting peak as long as I could, playing at the surface of a deep, inscrutable power.

When the wave finally returned us to solid land, Eva kept her face buried against my neck, shaking. I waited until the last tremors were well past before guiding her head up to wear I could kiss her. It was clear from her eyes that the finally shakes I had felt were Eva crying under me.

"Thank you." The constriction in her voice confirmed it. She drew in a heavy breath, ragged with feeling. "I love you."

"You better." Again, words came out that I wouldn't have chosen. Carrie's words. But ones that spoke to a deeper level. 'You better.' Eva needed to hear that she needed to earn what she wanted. She had been acquiesced to far too often, too often wrapped in a cocoon of sycophancy. Her face showed a flash of confusion, then anger, followed by fear, a subtle change in her brows, pulled tight below her high forehead. How many suitors had professed their love to her, hoping to hear it returned?

The fear lingered, her eyes flicking uncertainly between mine, until I let my smile escape, held back as long as I could. The tension washed away from her features in a flood of relief. "You bastard."

She seemed shy when she leaned in to kiss my cheek. "That was fucking amazing. You did things to me that I didn't think I...Thank you."

Eva - indomitable, unobtainable Eva - embarrassed and shy, thanking me. I brushed my lips over hers. "Any time."

"Really?" She looked genuinely excited. I wondered if there might be a chance to repeat this. To repeat a lot of things from the recent past.

-----

With no moon, I could barely make out the outlines of our bed and the lump in the middle that must be Carrie by the faintest hints of morning light. Eva had wanted to be held, and stroked. I was dozing off before she had announced it was time I returned to my own bed and my own wife. The last words she whispered as I slipped out her the door stuck with me. 'Until next time.'

Carrie stirred as I lifted the covers. I heard more than saw her, voice heavy with sleep. "Mmm. Hi, baby. Come 'ere."

Small hands guided me to her, pulling me close to her familiar naked body. If I had been less tired, less overwhelmed with my recent adventures, and hadn't smoked a bowl with Weed in the middle of the night, I might have noticed a familiar scent that usually wasn't found in this room. And recognized the extra heaviness in her voice. I might have, but I didn't.

"What's this?" Carrie's hand slipped down past my belly. Her head was close to my chest. "Honey? It feels like you have something on your cock."

In the dark, I felt her slip down, closer. "Hmm. I better see what it is, huh?"

"Ahh!" Her tongue ran up my length before she slipped the whole thing into her mouth. Still soft, it filled her mouth. I felt a soft sucking, her tongue moving over a giant not-yet-hard candy.

She pulled back with a loud 'pop'. "Honey, you taste like my best friend's pussy."

Her fingers began to pump the shaft and I felt it stiffening. "Now, that doesn't surprise me too much, considering the scream I heard earlier."

My hips began to push into her hand. I felt my breath, my pulse quickening.

"It made me wet, hearing that scream, knowing that meant my husband was doing the cruel, depraved things he does to me, but this time to some other girl. But something is bothering me."

I was completely hard when she paused. I felt her lips seal around my glans, suck, then again pop away. "Do you know what's bothering me, baby?"

"No." I was panting. I figured she wanted me inside her. "What?"

Her hand stopped. Her voice was flat, losing the playful lilt. "A taste another pussy on my husband's cock. Not just Eva's."

The silence hung, made more still by the dark.

A second voice broke out and I jumped. It came from close behind my wife, from the far side of the bed. It startled me enough that I slipped off the mattress, my bare naked ass hitting the floor. It's rapid-fire, amused delivery made the surprise more complete. "Is it the sweetest pussy you've ever tasted?"

Heart pounding in my chest, Weed's smile was crystal clear in her tone. And it was clear Weed was in bed with my naked wife. That was when the sleepy sound of Carrie's voice clicked, and the smell. Weed, getting Carrie high, and doing who knows what else.

"Are you, okay?" Carrie reached for me. Her hands pulled me back into the bed, pulled me onto her and over, into the center. Weed's hands joined in, guiding me between them. Carrie pulled my face close, kissed me.

"Honey?"

"Yes?" My head was whirling with questions, possibilities.

"I think I should apologize." That surprised me.

"For smoking in bed?"

"Hmm. No. Blame Weed for that."

"For scaring me half to death with a naked girl in my bed?"

"Nope." She was enjoying the guessing. "No apologies for that. You can thank me later."

I shrugged, noticing that I could see clearer outlines, the beginnings of detail as Dawn continued her first warm up exercises. "I give up. I can't think of anything else. What could you possibly need to apologize for, sweetheart?"

As my wife paused, looking up at me, I felt light kisses between the hands stroking my back. Carrie's hand again found me, now near-stiff.

"Well...I kinda sucked all your cum out of this sexy young girl here, after you worked so hard to fill her tight little pussy." Near-stiffness was instantly a thing of the past. Her breath caught as she felt it. "I think you better fill her up again."

Weed's words came to me as my wife's hands guided me to turn, encouraged the young girl's long legs around me.

Best birthday ever.

The end.