The Nymphet - A Summer Obsession

"The only way to see your matching tattoo is to see you naked," I murmured. "Who was the tattoo artist?"

I did not stare at my trophy for long -- I was already over-stimulated. I mounted her, guiding my engorged organ with one hand and putting my other arm around her, grasping the back of her neck.

"Mr. Hardwicke, no!" she cried, but her open mouth was just what I wanted.

I pushed my cockhead into her pussy and my tongue into her open mouth. She was far tighter than Millicent and her warm, wet, teenage pussy gripped my member. I was so excited that I knew I had to hurry. I slid my hand under her round buttocks, to the small of her back. I began to fuck her with a driving rhythm. I tried to keep my tongue in her mouth moving in sync with my thrusts. I felt her light tongue lance at mine. She made gentle, keening sounds as her hips began to swivel with my thrusts, creating suction that I could not resist. I barely managed five thrusts before I exploded and pumped my load into her.

I lay on her for a moment, still hard, my member still fully sheathed by her warm pussy, my tongue still in her mouth. She was panting, but had not yet cum. I knew that my erection would not last much longer, so I began to fuck her again, pistoning her as hard as I could. She writhed beneath me sinuously, her thighs threshed and I kept pushing into her, striving to keep my erection. Just when I felt my organ begin to wilt, I thought I felt her contractions and hoped she climaxed.

I just lay on her, exhausted for the moment. My hardon rapidly shrank and plopped out of her. I closed my eyes for a few moments. When I opened them, I saw that she was staring at me, her brown eyes hard. Our faces were only inches apart.

"You can ruin me now," I whispered. "Whatever they do to me, it was worth it."

"I didn't want you to fuck me, Mr. Hardcock," she whispered back, mis-stating my name on purpose. "But now that you've done it, you owe me."

"Owe you?" I asked, stupidly.

"You forced yourself on me," she said, managing to make her lilting Alabama accent sound harsh. "We can't go back, we can't put the toothpaste back in the tube. But you can't get something for nothing."

"What do you mean?" I asked, not daring to hope.

"I graduate next year and I want a job up here in the city," she said. "Banking is all about contacts, I know that from Father. You could help me get on the fast track. Father says that you're very well connected."

"If I do this," I said. "You'll keep quiet about what I've done this summer?"

"Yes," she snapped.

"You've got a deal," I said, feeling like a man on death row who receives a reprieve. "You're a bright girl, I can put you in a high impact position."

"For a man who's so sexually frustrated, you're easily bought, Mr. Hardcock," she said, her tone becoming less hard.

"I'm not sure I follow you," I said.

"You're in great shape, you've got a great body, and no one to share it with."

"How do you know?"

"You wouldn't be masturbating with my panties if you wife was having sex with you every night," she said. "She's frigid, isn't she? I think she's a repressed lesbian."

I was totally bowled over by this and it showed on my face. Her pugnacious demeanor broke and she laughed, a pleasing, tinkling sound that went well with her Alabama accent.

"She looks at me with the hunger of a she-wolf. She wants me as badly as you do. Maybe more." She smiled at my increasing shock. "She's often gone all day with her girlfriends, isn't she? She likes spending time with women, though I don't think she actually does anything physical. She wouldn't be such a tightly wound bitch if she was having lesbian sex."

I just lay there beside her with my mouth open. Twenty-five years of marriage and I did not have the faintest idea. Yet Megan seemed to have figured my wife out almost immediately.

"You've already had me today," Megan went on. "What's one more slice from a cut pie?"

"I'm not sure what that means, Megan."

"Untie me and I'll show you. I want you to remember today for what I did, not just what you did." She paused and when she continued, her voice was much harsher. "The more we do, the deeper the hole you're in, the more you owe me."

I undid Millicent's Hermes scarf and Megan massaged her sore wrists. Then she pulled off her mesh crop top and put her arms around me. I cuddled her and nuzzled her in bed for an hour, reveling in the feel of her tight, young, sylphlike body. Then she abruptly picked up her phone, set it on the nightstand and hit record.

"What are you doing?" I asked, rather superfluously.

"Evidence, Mr. Hardcock," she said, tartly. "Why should I trust the man who just raped me? I don't want this to be a 'she said, he said' story."

I shrugged. I was already committed, one way or the other.

She ran her lips down my body, commenting favorably on my pecs, and my abs, before using her fingers to dexterously get me erect with a hand job. I looked down to see her mouth open wide and her pink lips form a tight seal around my resurgent organ. It had been over twenty years since I'd had a blowjob, and Megan made sure that hers was memorable. She had me gasping for breath in less than a minute and I came very soon.

"They say sorority girls in the South have to give blowjobs as part of their initiation rites," I said to her afterward.

"I don't know where you got that ridiculous story," she said, but the mirth in her brown eyes kept me guessing. "Maybe we have to get tattoos."

The second time, Megan made me wear a condom. I fucked her doggie style, kneading her firm breasts and burying my head in her mane of soft, dark brown hair. She was so little, that she fit under me completely. Her pussy milked my member insistently and with soft pressure. Her young body was just too exciting for me and I came far too soon, leaving her unsatisfied.

* * * * *

12. Later, she used her mouth to get a condom on my rigid member, a sexual maneuver that was new to me. She rolled me over on my back and straddled me.

"Don't move for now, Mr. Hardcock," she said, as she positioned her pussy on my erection. "Let me do everything. You've got to stay hard long enough for me to cum too, you know. I'll tell you when you can start thrusting into me."

She slowly impaled herself on me, placing both her palms on my chest. I watched with fascination as her pink pussy lips engulfed my organ and I penetrated into her depths. I put a hand on each of her firm, round buttocks. She squashed her clit on my bony mount, slowly rotating her hips to maximize contact, friction, and stimulation. She increased her pace slowly, her eyes became glazed, and her breathing quickened into panting.

"Don't move, Mr. Hardcock!" she murmured. "Don't cum. Stay hard."

The pleasure was intense and I had to fight to hold back my rising sap.

"Don't cum," she said again. "Not yet. Not yet."

I broke out in a sweat, trying to hold back the ejaculation that was straining for release. As she worked her pussy on my erection, beads of perspiration coursed down the sides of her face and dripped on to me.

"Now!" she whispered finally. "Now! Give it to me!"

I arched my back immediately, bucking her and accentuating my cock's penetration of her pussy. Just two thrusts and I was done, spewing my load into the sac of the condom inside her.

"Did you cum?" I asked her, when I got my breath back, and she was lying on me, our bodies slippery with shared sweat, her supple breasts flattened against my chest.

"Yes," she said, with a lazy, predatory smile. "I can't believe how excitable you are, Mr. Hardcock. You're like a teenager with his first girlfriend, not an experienced man in his forties."

"I've only had sex with one woman before you, Megan," I said. "This is all very new for me." I kissed her breasts and suckled on her hard nipples. "You make me feel like a teenager. Nervous and constantly aroused."

"Well, we have a few more hours," she said.

Was her tone and manner less belligerent? I fervently hoped that I wasn't imagining it.

* * * * *

13. We cuddled for a while on the bed before she announced she was going down to the kitchen to get a drink of water. She hopped out of bed, wearing only her Pink bandeau bra, her metal choker necklace, and hoop earrings. She strapped on her platform heel sandals. A few moments after she went out the bedroom door, I got out of bed and followed her down, still naked.

She was at the kitchen island, and had just run herself a glass of water from the mini sink there. Her back was straight and well-muscled, highlighted by the thin backstrap of her bra. Her buttocks were perfect and round, her legs were long. Her high platform heels caused the muscles to tighten, making her buns firmer and her legs longer. Her pink pussy peeped out from between those perfect buttock cheeks. She was a sexual dream come true.

I stalked up behind her, soundless on my bare feet. My hardon swayed in front of me, longer and thicker than it had ever been. Holding my engorged organ with one hand, I guided it to her pussy lips. Her platform heels elevated her ass to just the right height. Before she could react, I pushed my cock into her. Her tightness stripped back my foreskin, exciting me even more. I reached around her, got a firm breast in each hand and pulled down her bra cups. I kneaded the mounds, and tweaked her nipples as I thrust hard, fully impaling her on my manhood. Her round buttocks fit perfectly against me.

"Guuhh!!" she spluttered, as some water went down the wrong track. "GUUHHH!! GUUHHH!!"

By this time, I was fucking her hard. Her spluttering made it even more erotic. She twisted in my arms as I pounded her, bringing out the wetness of sweat over her whole body. She spilled water out of the glass, making herself even wetter. I had already cum so many times, that I was able to fuck her for longer. I drove into her, relishing the feeling of my cockhead plumbing the tight, wet depths of her pussy, the roundness of her buttocks tight against me. Then I felt the twitching of her tight pussy and knew that she was about to cum.

"UMMphphff!" she gave out a strangled cry as she began to cum, still spluttering through the water in her airpipe. The partial strangulation seemed to give an edge to her orgasm and she rotated her hips wildly. Her hard contractions wringing my cock were too much for me, and I exploded, pumping my load into her.

She lay forward on the island and I lay over her, my hands still cupping her breasts and feeling her softening nipples on my palms. My cock was still buried deep inside her and felt the thick wetness of my ejaculate begin to leak out of her and down her thighs to drip on to the kitchen floor.

"You bastard," she said, her Southern accent sounding harsh and bitter. "You came inside me again. And it was a big load."

It was true. I'd never ejaculated so much before.

* * * * *

14. I couldn't get enough of Megan. I wanted to maintain a continuous erection and keep my cock buried in her. But of course, that was impossible. With my banker's analysis, I realized that I would produce an ejaculation about once an hour -- so I surreptitiously maintained a timer on my phone. I had sex with her on the timer, managing to fuck her a bit longer each time before cumming. She noticed it too.

"Omigod, Mr. Hardwicke, you're getting to be a satyr," she said, after I fucked her on the bathroom vanity. "You're banging me so hard, that my clit is sore."

I was so focused on the timer, that I lost track of the actual time. I realized it had grown dark and when I checked, it was nearly ten PM. Millicent would be home soon. I knew it was risky, but I wanted more.

I casually picked up Millicent's Hermes scarf. With a sudden move, I held Megan down and retied her wrists to the headboard.

"What are you doing, Mr. Hardwicke?" she complained. "You don't have to tie me down again to have sex with me."

"Bear with me," I whispered.

I flipped her over on to her stomach, and pulled a tube of Millicent's body lotion from the bedside drawer on her side of the bed. I pumped a generous squirt on my palm and massaged it into her buttocks. I kneaded her round butt in a massaging motion and she sighed with contentment.

"Yes, yes, ...," she murmured. "Be a masseur, Mr. Hardcock."

My fingers strayed between her buttocks, touching her pussy lips. Her clit rapidly grew swollen under my ministrations. Her breathing grew faster.

"Omigod, Mr. Hardcock," she said. "You're ready to have sex again? Already?"

"Yes," I said, simply.

"I can make it better for you if you untie me," she whispered.

"No," I said. "I don't think so. Not this time."

My lotion smeared fingers touched her anal ring. I massaged it with the lotion, feeling its pink tightness.

"Oh, oh, oh, ...," she whispered. "Just touch it, but no more. No more, Mr. Hardcock."

I didn't listen. I smeared a thick coating of lotion over my index finger and pushed it into her anus. She reacted immediately, arching her back and twisting in an attempt to get away from me.

"No, no, no, Mr. Hardcock! Not there! Don't you dare!"

Her ass was extremely tight, much tighter than her pussy. Her anal ring clenched around my finger in an instinctive reaction. However, the lotion was slippery and I kept pushing. My finger penetrated past her tight anal ring, a knuckle at a time.

"Omigod! OMIGOD!! Don't do this to me!" she wailed.

I got my other hand under her belly and used my forefinger to stimulate her clit. Soon her sexual juices were flowing copiously, so I knew that no matter how much she protested, her body was saying 'yes'.

I got my middle finger to join my index finger to widen my penetration of her ass. It was even harder to get it in.

"Don't, Mr. Hardcock! You're hurting me! OMIGOD!"

She began to sweat again with her twisting exertions. I felt moisture in her ass and my fingers moved in the tight canal more easily. I began to thrust my fingers into her, still stimulating her clit.

"OMIGOD! OMIGOD!! JESUS GOD!! What are you doing to me??!!"

My cock was rampant now and I was impatient. I pulled my fingers out of her and straddled her. She knew what I was going to do and thrashed under me. I got my cockhead lined up with her anus several times, but each time her thrashing caused it to slip away. Finally, I managed to use my body weight to hold her still for a moment. I felt her anal ring with my cockhead and pushed as hard as I could. My cock felt monstrous, painfully hard. The foreskin peeled back directly as I entered her ass. She screamed.

"OMIGOD!! OMIGOD!! YOU'RE TEARING ME APART!! I can't take you!! I CAN'T TAKE YOU BACK THERE!!"

Her tightness was incredible and I felt my cock was in a vice. But I kept pushing until I felt her firm buttocks against me. I was too excited to be gentle and began to fuck her hard, reaming her tightness. She screamed again, but as I continued to stimulate her clit, her cries became less about pain and more about passion.

"Now! NOW!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! AAH!! AAAH!! AAAHHH!! Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME!!"

I exploded and pumped another load into her. I collapsed on her and we lay there, a tangle of two sweat covered bodies. Even the backstrap of her bra was soaking wet -- I felt it on my chest. I kept my cock in her ass, feeling it deflate ever so slowly. Tied down with the scarf, pinned down on the bed under my weight, I felt her completely in my control.

"You bastard," she gasped. "You absolute bastard. I've never let anyone fuck me in the ass."

"But you came," I insisted. "I felt your pussy contracting on my fingers."

"Untie me now," she said. "I need to take a shower. I can feel your warm cum deep in my ass."

I joined her in the shower. My hands roamed over her young body, inserting soapy fingers into her pussy and her ass, teasing her nipples to hardness.

"You've fucked me very thoroughly, Mr. Hardcock," she said as the warm water cascaded over us. "You came in my pussy, in my mouth and in my ass. I can't believe how much you've changed in ten hours."

I felt a quiet sense of triumph. I had sex with her in my marriage bed, in the kitchen, in the bathroom. And I made her cum -- again and again. When she said that I'd fucked her thoroughly, she made me feel more like a man than I had ever felt before.

* * * * *

15. Even after spending all day fucking Megan, I was sorry when we had to shower, and make ourselves ready for Millicent's return. I could not keep my hands off her while we waited. Unlike Millicent, she seemed to enjoy that her elfin body aroused me. I offered her cobalt blue panties back.

"Keep them," she said. "I want you to remember me. And here -- keep these as well."

She handed me the Victoria's Secret Pink panties that I had pulled off her, still wet with the copious outpouring of her sexual fluids.

"When I'm back at school in Alabama, I'll think of you masturbating with my panties," she said, laughing. "It's quite a turn-on." She grew serious again -- I was beginning to see that she habitually interspersed bouts of levity and gravity. "But this is a bad time of the month for me, you know. I'm REALLY mad that you came inside me the first time when you raped me. And then again in the kitchen."

"I'm sorry," I said, but I did not mean it. The feeling of my bare cock in her pussy was definitely better than with the condom, thin as it was. She saw through me immediately.

"You're lying, Mr. Hardcock," she said angrily, and this time I could not be sure whether her anger was real or feigned.

When Millicent finally came home around ten at night, she found Megan and me at the kitchen table, playing cards.

"I hope you had a nice day with your girlfriends, Mrs. Hard, ... I mean Hardwicke," said Megan.

"Wonderful, Megan," said Millicent, a stab of irritation showing in her eyes at the faux pas. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

"Car's loaded," replied Megan. "I leave first thing in the morning."

"I'll get up and see you off," said Millicent.

* * * * *

16. The next morning, I got up even earlier than Millicent, brushed my teeth, and went downstairs in my dressing gown. Megan was just finishing her coffee. She gave me a peck on the cheek, which was fortunate because Millicent came downstairs just as she was doing it.

Millicent and I watched her backing her car down our long driveway. I put my arm around Millicent's waist, but she disengaged herself rather brusquely.

"I'll miss having her around," said Millicent. "But I won't miss having you staring at her tits and ass."

* * * * *

17. Five months later, Megan called me.

"I'm pregnant," she said, without preamble. "It's a girl. And it's yours."

"How do you know?" I asked automatically.

"You're the only one I slept with around the time conception happened," she replied. "And you came inside me. Twice."

At nineteen, she's near the peak of her fertility, I thought. At the right time of the month, when she was ovulating, unprotected sex would almost certainly get her pregnant.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text and I saw it was from Megan. I switched to speaker mode to keep talking to her while I opened her text. It was a sideways picture of her, taken in a mirror. She was wearing her neon yellow Nike sports bra, now stretched to hold in her pregnancy-enhanced breasts and yellow v-string panties. One hand held the phone that took the picture, while the other was on the underside of her prominent belly.

"What can I do, Megan?" I asked. "I'll do anything."

"I told Father and Mother the truth," she said. "That the father is someone I had an affair with in the city during my internship. And that he's totally unsuitable -- not someone I want around the baby. They're not happy, but they don't believe in abortion. They said they'll adopt her."

"If you need any money ...," I began.