The Tabitha Files: Coda

I dive right in with a strong sweep of all three regions starting with my favourite zone of Tabitha's erogenous trifecta, the shitter, funky. My tongue enters the pussy folds, where my tastebuds immediately register her sweetest nectar, before savagely flicking her clit (the least understood of her female charms). This action takes seconds but the assault on her senses in undeniable, both physically and orally.

I repeat and am rewarded with the same reaction. I lap at the dirt locker, stab my tongue inside Tabitha's love tunnel, and flick Tabitha's bean in random. I swallow everything she gives me. Her entire womanhood is drowning in a tsunami of bodily fluids. Tabitha is lost in abandoned pleasure. I detect some of my attention is better received than others. As soon my tongue massages her clit, a hand previously pulling a sleek leg apart grabs my hair, Tabitha has made her choice. She casts judgement on analingus as a concept of pleasure and rejects it.

I focus my tongue energy on her tiny bean. This gives Tabitha the pleasure she craves. She writhes and moans with each flick of my rapidly tiring tongue. Then suddenly: "Babe, I need you to fuck me!"

I gladly desist. My face, however, is covered in slime. It's a mess and scent that will carry over a few days into the future. Possible literature inspiration?

I lean back on my haunches and Tabitha collects her legs together and stands up.

"Your turn." She tells me, motioning towards the vacated, and very slick, toilet seat. I know what comes next. Tabitha will ride me. It's the surest way for her to orgasm, and to exhibit her unique trick. Not that either of us fully understands this trick.

I take my appointed position, and Tabitha straddles me and lowers her womanly parts to my enraged diamond cutter. Tabitha's saliva has long since dried in this airless, humid environment. This matters not. Her overstimulated fuck box takes up the slack and we couple instantly. Our own sensations are expressed orally. By now, if there are people outside wanting to use this toilet, we cannot hear them, and if we could, we wouldn't care.

I grab Tabitha's arse cheeks and spread them. Wide. The lowered level of the disabled toilet allows Tabitha to plant both feet on the ground, perfect for riding my stick. I struggle to remain in a fixed position, given the slime that coats the plastic toilet seat. Tabitha places her arms on my shoulders and immediately fucks me with furious abandon. She grinds her pubic bone savagely into me. It is a distinctly uncomfortable sensation that borders on pain. But there is no stopping Tabitha, she is chasing orgasm. I don't blame her. This discomfort I am feeling will not last long. Tabitha orgasms freely and quickly. Her tits are in my face. I lick the cherries where I can. I don't think it makes any difference to Tabitha's level of arousal. She is breathing heavily, moaning loudly, looking down at me with disdain, concentrating on orgasm.

Then it hits. Tabitha slams her pelvis into mine. She throws her head back, and emits a drawn-out, pitched grown. Her body convulses. I feel a vice-like contraction around my hard-on. And then comes the flood. The feeling of an eruption of warm fluid that engulfs my nether region. Above the din, I hear splashes in the toilet as this fluid hits the water. I hear this fluid impact the tiling at each side of the bowl. Tabitha has orgasmed. Orgasm is evident by this eruption of fluid. This is her trick. Neither of us fully understand how or why she orgasms in this manner. We haven't discussed it, and I doubt we will delve into the topic today. I am exiting her life shortly.

The waves of orgasmic pleasure subside in time. We are both slick with sweat. I am uncomfortable and need to stand up. Tabitha opens her eyes, looks at me with fire blazed across each pupil. Roughly, and surprisingly, she grabs me by the jaw and kisses me with unbridled emotion. Suddenly, I don't want to leave Tabitha or Albany. I accept this backwater, I love Tabitha.

No, no!

I can do neither. I must leave on the 3pm bus.

But not before this last act of personal, sexually gratification.

Tabitha stands up. I look down and observe the waves of pussy juice that coats my pelvis. She left the best for last. What a performance from her young pussy!

Tabitha is experienced in anal sex. She understands this primal act pleases me. I obsess over anal sex. Such rawness is part of our drill. It is another lesson in sexual maturity. This is a talent that will help Tabitha secure a high-value mate in the future.

I position Tabitha against the basin sink. Her reflection stares back at me as I stand behind her. She reaches behind and spreads a cheek. I have a clear shot at my goal. The purple helmet contacts her funky arsehole. Before applying pressure, I glance back to the mirror. Tabitha gazes intensely at me and bites her lip, anticipating the next move. It's a practiced move. Tabitha knows what's coming. I push forward and ease into her most intimate hole. There was no noise, no whimper of pain, all she gives away is a fluttering of eyelids as her body acknowledges the meaty intrusion. I grab Tabitha by her shoulders and pull her onto my length. She lets out a silent exhale and, briefly, thrusts her face to the ceiling.

And there I stop, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion. I teach her that this step is necessary for the full enjoyment of anal sex. This is a lesson I asked Tabitha to remember when she gives a new man the pleasure of her arsehole. I instruct her to offer up her backdoor sparingly, and only to deserving men. I think she understands this lesson.

Tabitha trusts me because I am gentle, and I am her first. But not her last. She also knows that she can orgasm from anal sex when I am inside her. Tabitha reaches around with an arm and pulls my hip towards her so that I am in balls deep.

A sigh is released, and she looks me straight in the eye via the mirror. It is a steely stare. No bitten lip and no fluttering of eyelids, anymore. Tabitha is comfortable, and she is ready. The determined look in her eyes instructs me to do my thing, and I need no further encouragement, although I continue to treat her arsehole with the delicacy and reverence it deserves.

I move my hips, causing my engorged member to piston in and out of her tight arse. My actions are deliberately slow. The lack of proper sexual lubricant and the reliance on bodily fluids is insufficient to prevent some friction. Tabitha hisses at the irritation. I enjoy the sensation.

She knows how to compensate because of my tutelage. From the mirror, I watch Tabitha, with her eyes firmly closed, squeeze saliva on to her hand, reach behind and massage it into the cleft between her cheeks where my cock is intruding. Tabitha is young but lightyears ahead of her friends. This knowledge gives me pride as I quicken my action working her shit chute. The additional saliva has eased the irritation. Tabitha can now enjoy fully the sensation of being arse fucked, and I suspect another orgasm, of a different kind, will be forthcoming.

I hope so because of the tight confines of her O-ring tends to finish me off, sooner than I expect, or want. My hands are firmly on her hips now. The ambient temperature increases my sweating. Tabitha is flush also, and her skin is slick with salty residue. This is a familiar pattern when we fuck, we take our time, and we don't skimp on any sexual delight. Many future men will be worn out by Tabitha's stamina and appetite. I pity them, but they will not be deserving of her long-term attention.

I feel her anal muscles relax. It opens and welcomes my penetration, but there is no diminishing tightness. I know that I am close, and I also realise that I cannot resist what must occur. My full balls are groaning under strain.

I hope I can last so that Tabitha can enjoy a final anal orgasm together. The pleasure of her arsehole has on my cock forced me to break our locked reflective gaze. Sweat is stinging my eyes. I try to alleviate the blinding, but my arm has no more dry patches left to wipe away the sweat.

I glance back at the mirrored reflection. Tabitha's gaze is fixed on my reaction. Her face is expressionless as my cock ploughs her young shitter. Her look is contemptuous, my lack of control disappoints her. Tabitha's hand on my hip pulls me harder into her. It's a race against time. I disengage a hand from one of her magnificent breasts. I locate her clit. I roughly massage it, hoping to get her off before I totally lose my shit. Her swampiness is off the scale.

Success is instant.

Tabitha places both hands firmly on the vanity unit. I instantly feel a contraction of her anal muscles. She drops her head from the mirror, and her mousey hair covers her face. I hear deep breathing. I see her knuckles glow white hot with the strength of her grip. My hands are on her hips as I slam my cock deep into her bowels.

Tabitha's whole body shudders, violently. So violently. She throws her head back as wave after wave of anal orgasm washes over her. My cock is gripped tight by the contraction of her anal muscles. I concentrate on anything, not sexual, to prevent me from blowing my stack. I plan another way of finishing off today.

I slow my thrusting. I wrap my arms around Tabitha's tummy in a close, bent over, embrace. I let the tide of orgasm subside. Tabitha soon recovers. She senses this from my demeanour that I am at breaking point. My shaking leg is a dead giveaway.

"I want to come in your mouth!" I hiss as I pull out of her exotic arsehole with a pop and a dribble of unmentionable slime.

Tabitha makes no objection.

"On your knees," I order.

Tabitha complies in an instant. Eager. Expectant.

"Push your tits together." Comes another order.

Tabitha complies, not because she's comfortable with self-love, but because I order it and her compliance pleases me.

I wank my cock. I'm only seconds away from a massive explosion. Tabitha's eyes are closed. This will not do.

"Look up at me." Her eyes instantly rise to mine.

I see her at her most submissive and exposed. I witness the vulnerability but also pick-up the anticipation. Tabitha gets pulses of pleasure when she sees me explode. She's already confessed as much. I aim to please us. Me and her.

My whole body convulses in ecstasy. I try keeping my eyes open to witness the masterpiece of my artistic sexual ability, but my orgasm overwhelms me. My eyes are firmly closed, but with fireworks exploding from behind my eyelids. Massive pulses erupt from my gourds. I hear gasps of wonderment from Tabitha as wave after wave of hot wax splashes over her nubile body.

"Wow!" says Tabitha, laughing half-heartedly.

After an eternity of ten seconds (the average length of the male orgasm), the call of reality beckons. No, I cry. It's over too soon. So soon, after nearly 90 minutes of intense sexual pleasure. I open my eyes, but I'm still dazed, riding the light fantastic of the milky way. It takes moments to become self-aware again. I'm sweating from head to toe, breathing heavily, my left leg shaking like Elvis' but my balls are drained, and I am satisfied.

Tabitha, on the other hand, is on her knees in a public toilet. Humiliated, used. She is drenched in a cornucopia of bodily fluids; sweat, pussy juice and lobbed ropes of steaming man jism. I see her eye is red, irritated by my mis-directed string of salty liquid. Collateral damage in the game of love.

I direct my deflating cock towards her mouth. Tabitha is reluctant to accept meat that was delivered by the tradesman's entrance. Her lips part tentatively, and I take the opportunity. My cummy cock twitches in the moist and warm confines of her mouth. Tabitha enjoys this sensation. I am in heaven. Another lesson, perhaps?

When there is no further pleasure for her to give and for me to receive, I help Tabitha to her feet. She looks in the mirror at the mess I made of her pretty face. The irritated, red eye is apparent. I stand behind her, pressed up against her svelte, sweaty body. There is sperm splashed across her face, her hair and further down on her deliciously pert breasts.

Suddenly I am inspired. There is one more act to perform. Some might say humiliation, but I don't care. Tabitha is here for my gratification.

She begins to clean up, I prevent this. I have a better idea. Better for me. Another entry to the wank bank.

I begin at her breasts. This is where I lobbed the bulk of my load. I sweep my hand in an upward stroke, collecting the viscous fluid against the plane of my finger. Tabitha is frozen in fear and anticipation. Does she know what's about to happen? Will she submit one final time?

I bring a loaded finger up to her lips. Tabitha dutifully opens her mouth, and I offer her my gift. Our eyes are locked together through the medium of reflection. Steely, fixed gazes like before. Like a castle trellis falling into place, my finger is becoming trapped in her maw. Her skilful tongue wipes my finger clean. I sense her throat muscles exercise as my sperm is swallowed.

Tabitha releases my finger. "More!"

She is an enthusiastic oral acceptor of man cum.

I repeat my action, cleaning her up from her breasts to her face. My seed is swallowed with enthusiasm, but the heat, ambient and physical, is breaking that seed down. It is becoming runny, fragrant in an unpleasant way, and is leaving trails on that perfect skin. Without breaking our visual lock, I lick the side of her cheek, I taste the sweat and foul man juice. I grab Tabitha's hair and force her mouth on mine. She has no resistance left. We kiss, tongue dance, and she accepts the fluid I orally transfer into her mouth. Our visual lock remains unbroken.

We separate, and this signals that my seed has gone, swallowed by Tabitha for my pleasure. "Yummy!"

I detect disappointment in Tabitha's eyes that look back at me through the reflection. The realisation that in minutes I will be gone from her life, that she will be gone from mine. Tabitha is emotional, but she hides her emotions well.

She won't engage in much activity for the rest of this day. Too tired. Tomorrow, she'll likely be sore in a few places, but that's not my problem. This tryst will be temporarily forgotten. My destiny awaits. Tabitha's last-minute submission to my sexual mores is subordinate to the loftier goal of career. I don't feel regret. Later in life, I will remember and document this episode for posterity.

We clean ourselves up. The irritation in Tabitha's eye persists. Voices from outside become more apparent. The hour of departure is upon us. In a way, I feel sadness. I know I love Tabitha and that she loves me, but we are prisoners to the gaol-keeper of time. It is not entirely our turn. Maybe in the future, it will be. There's a tug of nostalgia in the silence of a disabled bathroom so befouled with sexual pleasure.

Tabitha senses this in me, and tugs at my arm.

"Time to go."

Postscript: In 2002, I moved from Melbourne to Perth and heard from a mutual friend that Tabitha was living there. She, herself, was promoted and transferred during my absence. We met and reacquainted our friendship, although we were never intimate again despite coming close on a few occasions. Tabitha was the same bubbly personality that I remembered, more mature and worldlier, with an increased repertoire and appetite for sex. Alas, we chose divergent paths and disappeared from each other's lives in 2007 without even a Facebook connection to keep us in touch. I think this is a good thing, let the past remain the past. As for Sarah (introduced in the first four chapters but not this one), I never saw or heard from her again after I left Albany, but I had no emotional investment in her as I did with Tabitha. My time in Albany during my formative years have served as the inspiration for many of my stories but alas the inkwell has finally run dry on that chapter of my life.