Vacation with the Marshals Pt. 04

She ran her hands lightly over the towel as she moved to my legs, and she began to work the muscles of my thighs again. I let out another moan.

"Good," she said. "I can feel you relaxing."

She worked her hands down my thighs, to my calves, to my feet. Then, slowly, she slid her hands back up, all along my legs, to my hips, up my sides. I felt the towel come away, and opened my eyes to see her hovering above me, on the table now, straddling me.

"Just let your body respond," she said, and then she lowered her face to my chest, running her lips lightly along my skin as she slid back down, and before I even knew what was happening I felt her lips slide around the head of my cock. Her mouth was warm and wet and slid slowly down the length of my shaft, and I felt her hand lightly cup my balls, and then I was cumming, hard and long, and her lips tightened around my cock. I heard myself moaning but I was barely aware of it. I felt my cock pulse in her mouth in an orgasm that seemed to go on for minutes.

Finally I looked down at her and my eyes found hers; she looked up at me, her lips still gripping my cock. Cum ran down my shaft, spilling from her lips, but mostly she'd sucked it up. I could feel the pressure of her swallowing, sucking my cock like a straw. Then she slid her lips up my shaft, slurping as she went. She smiled, her lips wet with cum, and she slowly licked up what had spilled. She held my still-hard cock in her fist.

"You," she said, speaking slowly, running her hand up and down my shaft, "never run out, do you?"

She released my cock and raised herself up on her knees above me. She never broke eye contact as she pulled open her kimono. It fell away, revealing her naked body below. Her body was beautiful, shapely and covered with tiny freckles. Her boobs sat large and heavy, her stomach was tight but curved, framed by large hips, leading downward into a patch of pubic hair slightly redder than the hair on her head. It glistened with moisture. She watched me admiring her, watched my cock twitch with arousal. She smiled, and peeled the kimono off and tossed it aside. Then she grabbed my cock again.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she said.

I nodded. She leaned in, squeezing my cock.

"Say it," she said.

"I want to fuck you," I said.

She grinned, squeezing tighter.

"Say it again."

"I want to fuck you," I said, louder.

"Good," she said. And she crawled forward, hovering over me, her boobs swinging in the space between us. And she held my cock up in her fist and lowered herself down. We both gasped as the head of my cock made contact with her pussy. I could already feel how wet she was. She parted for me and slid down, her pussy squeezing and swallowing my cock. We both moaned. She slid as far down as she could, and I throbbed inside her, trying to catch my breath. Then she started moving slowly up and down.

Some measure of the tranquility Gretchen's rubdown had given me stayed with me. Her sliding up and down on my cock felt amazing. My mind was empty; I was only the feeling of her wet pussy gripping my cock tightly, sliding all the way down on me, swallowing me, then sliding all the way back up. I was conscious of the sound of it, I was conscious of the feel of her hands on my chest, of the look on her face, the breathy moans coming from her, the hypnotic swaying of her big tits as they swung back and forth with her movements. I looked into her blue eyes and could see my pleasure reflected back, and I thought of nothing but that shared feeling.

The porch filled with our combined moans. Her hands kneaded into my chest, then she was pulling at me, and I knew she meant she wanted me on top of her. As one we rolled over, my cock staying inside her, then I was pushing myself into her. She screamed out, her hands dug into my back.

I don't know how long we stayed in that position. She came, I came; it seemed to go on forever. I shot my cum inside her and she squealed, then I pulled out and she gripped my cock with both hands and pumped. I came again, or that one orgasm stretched out: it was impossible to know which, but I streamed cum all over her, onto her face, her tits, her stomach. Then I collapsed onto her and our bodies writhed together, and I still I came onto her, rubbing my cock against her clit as she came again and again.

Finally I rolled onto my back, my arm around her. She purred and moved against me, rubbing her hands on my chest and stomach. I drifted into sleep, woke with Gretchen's voice in my ear, her hand slowly, gently, working my cock.

"You," she purred, "are the best I've ever had. I can't get enough of your cock."

I moaned, my body still responding, as she stroked me until I was fully hard again, then climbed back onto me, slid my cock back inside of her.

I don't know how many times we fucked that night. How many times Gretchen came, how many times I did. I slept, some, but often I woke with Gretchen working my cock, with her hand, with her mouth, with her pussy. I wasn't aware when the other women came home, if they came through the porch or went around back; if they saw us, or could hear us. They must have at least heard us. The night slipped away in stops and starts, through brief dreams of being naked out in the open, interrupted by Gretchen's moans, the feeling of her taking hold of my cock once again, through moments of awareness, Gretchen's moaning and mine, fucking, cumming, sleeping, again, again, again.

One of the last coherent thoughts I had was: "This beats a dinner party."