Wind Shear

He closed his eyes, swallowing down the abrupt up-surge of pleasure, fighting to keep his slipping control, as he swayed back on his heels. His grip tightened on her naked shoulders, as he surrendered to the myriad sensations of lips and mouth and tongue assiduously working him over. For Leonard, this was the supreme pleasure -- the sight and feel of a beautiful woman going down on him.

He savored the way she sucked with gentle persistence, the exquisite feel of lips that were protectively turned-in as they tightened and then slide wetly along his prick. She gave him an extra thrill each time by the way she twisted her head as she bobbed mindlessly up and down on his painfully stiff cock. He loved the sound of her soft urgent whimpers; the tiny, slurping noises she made as she softly suckled him.

Now he held her small gently rocking head between his cradling hands. Curled fingers dug into her hair, cupped her head, guided her efforts.

He arched back, clenching his jaws against the blinding surge of pure pleasure that powered up from his groin, shook him to the core. His buttocks tightened down; cheeks clenching in repeated spasms. His hips began to jerk in deep pelvic thrusts. His hands tightened on the undulating head, and he staggered back. She ran her hands up the back of his legs, and then cup his buttocks, squeezing, gripping him by the cheeks as she plunged in, diving in to press her face into his crotch, and there to root beneath his hanging balls, inhaling deeply, drinking in the heady musky masculine smell that impregnated the moist pubic hair in which her nose was buried.

The man gave out with a quivering groan. But before he could react, she recaptured his gleaming cock, clutching him in her little fist to pull him into her mouth once again, this time to work him over with a renewed frenzy of lust: sliding the taut ring of her lips down his throbbing cock, drawing deeply, as she pumped up and down in long, deliciously shivering strokes.

The creamy rise of tickling pleasure threatened to undo him. His knees weakened. His helpless hands fumbled with the bare shoulders of his greedy cocksucker, as he threw back his head and grunted. The unstoppable rise pleasure seized him, shook him. His fingers tightened on her shoulders as he tried desperately to hang on to his shredding sanity till the last possible minute.

Then he came, in an explosion of pure orgasmic pleasure that overtook him -- obliterating everything in its wake. His cock was a thing apart: a pulsating, pumping machine, erupting in thick wads of cum that seemed to go on forever as he strained high up onto his toes, pulled back, and aimed his prick at his pleasuring tormentor. Firing gobs of his cum all over Meredith C.'s pretty face, Leonard Glass arched back and growled his triumph at the heavens.

Meredith felt her own rise of deep-seated pleasure. Panting heavily, she turned her head, and there, across the room she saw herself in a full length mirror: a naked, kneeling girl whose eyes met her from a face that was decorated with ropy gobs of sperm.

The wind shear that gripped her, swept her up to its crest; held her there. The world blurred as she was pinned there in place at some unbelievable height while she twisted in the wind, all the while forced to endure the most indescribable, unbearable, pure delight. The earthshaking orgasm that followed shook her like rag doll, and she threw her arms around the legs of her lover and hung on with while her pleasure-soaked body was racked with orgasmic spasms that went on, and on, and on.

The End