By Stanley Collymore
SARAH STOOD PURPOSELY under the shower, and having turned the hot and cold taps on to secure the right mix of temperature and consistency of flow that she wanted, allowed the refreshingly warm, clear water she'd sought to fall unchecked over her tired, aching body.
She'd just had the fuck of her life. And as the streaming jets of water cascaded over her soft, velvet skin she could hear her man, who moments earlier had ravaged her in a way no other man had managed to do before, moving about in a business-like manner in the bedroom beyond the half-opened door which physically separated them. Even when attending to mundane matters he had a special way about him she thought, and smiled smugly at the suggestion that came leaping into her head just as he had so recently and unexpectedly leapt into her life and her bed.
"Peter Roberts," she sighed wistfully, the words tripping lightly off her tongue as she tenderly spoke her lover's name. "Peter," she breathed again. “You suave, sophisticated and incredibly sexy hunk."
The last words instantly sent shivers down Sarah's spine making her light-headed as she recalled their first meeting, which had led so dramatically to the events that had so recently taken place between them.
With a new bar of her favourite soap with which she'd already begun to lather herself clasped in her right hand Sarah skilfully trailed the hard texture and familiar contour of this improvised sex-tool along the perimeter of her left breast. As she did so a tingly sensation rose sharply in her aureolic region, subsiding just as quickly as it started but leaving in its wake the stirrings of an insatiable lust. A few more passes with the soap and her nipples began to grow and harden perceptibly.
God this feels good," she murmured lustfully as the jets of warm water bombarded the turgid exterior of their selected target.
"Alright honey?" Peter called from inside.
"You tell me," Sarah cooed indulgently, yet in spite of her developing sexual urges and the profound effect they were having on her answered immediately: "Sure darling, everything's fine."
"Anything I can do?" Peter offered. "Can I give you a hand?"
The words struck Sarah like a thunderbolt, and she felt her knees buckle slightly as fresh memories of Peter's expert hands fully traversing her body engulfed her thoughts.
"Please," she heard herself say in the ensuing daze.
"Didn't hear you darling," Peter replied and moved instantly towards the half-opened door, pushing it aside gently.
"If you want to," Sarah called back enticingly then stopped abruptly in mid sentence as in the half-shadow directly behind her she saw Peter's imposing figure framed in the doorway, its solid manliness stark naked as she herself was.
Unhesitatingly she turned and faced him.
"I hadn't noticed you standing there," Sarah said half-surprised, her quite perceptive but unembarrassed eyes lustfully surveying the delectable man-meat in front of her.
Peter grinned boyishly.
"It figures," he said jovially. "Well, do you want any help?"
Sarah didn't reply; and with good reason too, for words in the circumstances would have been superfluous as her eyes said it all. Instead, with a tantalising shift of her body she instantaneously moved deeper into the shower cubicle making room for Peter as he purposely and eagerly advanced towards her.
Peter's welcomed entrance into the shower added a new dimension to the term water sports. And with the water beating out its hypnotic rhythm on the concrete floor and against the tiled walls behind them, the two lovers slipped effortlessly into each other's arms.
"Do you come here often?" Peter joked.
"Only when I need to," Sarah laughed.
"And how often is that?"
"How horny I feel," Sarah quipped.
"I see," Peter encouraged. "And how horny are you now?"
"Why not find out for yourself," Sarah suggested.
"Alright I will," Peter replied, gamely accepting the challenge.
The shudder that raced down Sarah's spine throwing her temporarily but decidedly off balance was unexpected as it was electrifying. Without another word Peter had sunk his teeth into the nape of her neck, and having already pinioned her arms to her side and pressed her back firmly against the shower wall was greedily devouring her. And as his rapid bites like countless pinpricks stabbed into her naked flesh to plague her Sarah, her sense of utter helplessness greatly magnified by Peter's dominance over her and in turn further heightening her already charged sensuality willingly succumbed to him.
"Ow!" she cried, wincing visibly as she entered the twilight zone between pain and pleasure. "You're getting me all wet."
"That's the general idea," Peter gloated immodestly, his mouth greedily engulfing the lobe and outer orifice of Sarah’s left ear.
It was a challenging response that made Sarah think she would faint, so compellingly overpowering were the sensations being wracked from her young body as the intense nibbling and licking carried out on both her ears now soared to fever pitch.
"Peter," she moaned in quiet desperation, "you're driving me crazy."
This plaintive plea though brought only a wicked laugh from Peter as his continuous ministrations: skilled and determined, worked their way the length of Sarah's neck to the plains of her shoulders, the upper reaches of her arms, eventually crossing over to her chest, and finally settling on the mounds of her firm, succulent breasts.
This much broader exploration of her body with its accompanying intensity of carnal provocation induced a low moan of sensual anguish from Sarah as Peter’s still probing tongue trailing most pleasurably over her mammary organs moved in ever diminishing circles provocatively around their huge aureoles that like two old scars fully covered the entire apex of her heaving breasts. Then following what seem an eternity to her, during which new and more intense feelings of pleasure were drawn out of her, it eventually concentrated on the base of her distended nipples: rock hard and erect, to start afresh the tormenting process that she was being satisfyingly subjected to.
The first contact between Peter's tongue and Sarah's nipples had transmitted a series of electric shocks that charged through her and seemed to her to significantly intensify with the conductibility of the water still disgorging itself unrestrictedly over her; shocks that appeared to centre specifically around her pubic region, manifesting themselves in a fast moving series of spasms that penetrated well within and afterwards erupted deeply inside her vagina. But these miniature explosions were nothing compared to the violent reaction which now rocked her whole body as Peter's mouth enveloped the taut buds of her nipples and straightaway began sucking and chewing at them indiscriminately.
"Peter...Oh Peter, let go of me!" Sarah implored as the whiplash effect of her rising passion grabbed hold of her. "Peter darling, please...I want to touch you."
The request was denied.
Instead, with the infuriating torment of a picador hounding a cornered bull in the bull ring driving it well beyond the point of distraction, the permitted harassment went on; and with the increased ferocity of Peter's connoisseur nibbling, kissing and caressing no longer restricted to a specific area of her body, it wasn't long before his avid exploration of Sarah discovered and brought him face to face with the pride of her womanhood.
There are some experiences in life which are unforgettable. But of these just a few of them are ever indelibly etched in pristine clarity on the mind's consciousness and remain a permanent record of a personal moment in life's calendar to savour for eternity. What happened to Sarah next was one of them.
The thorough extent of her sexual arousal now evidenced in the sustained copious shedding of her love juices that liberally coated the swollen, outer lips of her vagina and seeped unhindered, like a weeping sore, in small rivulets from her insides, thereafter to course their way between the tight passage that separated the firm cheeks of her bottom was a massive turn-on for Peter. So, too, were the tiny droplets of glistening fluid which hung suspended from her luxuriant forest of pubic hair before eventually running down her shapely legs, instantly to be lost forever swept away by the on-rush of water beating forcibly against them.
Together, they created an extremely gripping and intoxicating atmosphere; and when strengthened by the resilient, highly pervasive sexual odour coming from Sarah that like bitter-sweet almonds provocatively played havoc with his nostrils and taste buds, Peter just flipped; and losing all control hungrily buried his face deep into Sarah’s pubes.
"Jesus Christ!" Sarah screamed irreverently at the impact of this most intimate of contacts, thrusting her hips forward and rocking them forcefully and licentiously against Peter's head to fully assist the nestling warmth of his famished face pressed lecherously against her private parts. "That's good!"
Then in the aftermath of this new development suddenly felt her vaginal lips roughly prised apart as the combined force of Peter's mouth and the suction caused by their joint exertions easily opened her up. Almost immediately Peter's tongue assumed occupancy of the vacant opening, its flicking motion first probing the entrance of this pubic mouth offered to it before smoothly sliding into it to bury itself in the distant recesses therein; there to fully explore, stroke and massage the velvet-softness of its humid interior.
Sarah, meanwhile, severely weakened by the enfeebling effect of Peter's cunnilingus on her and her hands no longer restricted by him - having had them freed the moment he decided to direct his attention and energy basically on her vagina - gritted her teeth, and grasping hold of the top of the shower wall for physical support barely managed to stop herself from collapsing completely on the floor.
"Don't stop!" she moaned desperately as serial waves of lust swept over her, crashing down with powerful force on the consciousness of her mind; while inside her hot humid vagina the initial spasms which were clearly the prelude to her first orgasm started their rapid build-up.
With the precision of a plastic surgeon carrying out a delicate operation Peter peeled back the inner folds of Sarah's vaginal lips, searched for, found and gently prised out the erect bud of her clitoris. Then with his left thumb - no stranger to this sort of thing - he expertly and repeatedly stroked its swollen head, at the same time running the practised index finger of his other hand along her back passage to probe and titillate the clenched rim of her anus before pushing a determined finger fully into its tight orifice. This new offensive of Peter’s rocked Sarah to the very core of her nervous system, throwing her immediately into a state of total disarray.
"Oh my cunt!" she screamed. "You're making me come!"
And moments later with her whole insides vibrating uncontrollably and the walls of her vagina flexing furiously against Peter's thrashing tongue as he methodically milked her with it she let out a high-pitched shriek as her massive orgasm literally overpowered her in a most rampant and unchecked release.
Evocative of a hot douche it had also liberally bathed Peter's face, the sustained jets of glutinous fluid: the duration of their sustained outpouring numbering several seconds and released with amazing force, erupting the moment that the last vaginal contraction like the over-wound coils of a mechanical clock snapped free, leaving Sarah's vagina a gaping hole of irresistible invitation.
This was clearly too much for Peter to stand and whose own ground swell of surging lust showed perceptibly in the huge penal erection he displayed, and which had rapidly risen to such a conspicuous point that if the urgency this dictated wasn't promptly dealt with a mishap of monumental proportions was very much in the offing.
Furthermore, in the wake of Sarah's powerful orgasm Peter had liberally imbibed of her mouth-watering mead - this slightly rancid-tasting sap whetting his appetite further for her as he enthusiastically gulped it down his throat. Now burning hot and egged on by the provocative sight of the dark-purpled interior of her love tube staring wantonly at him and fuelling his own sexual desires now running uncontrollably at fever pitch, he wanted more. And for him that meant only one thing - penetrating her to the hilt with the full vigour of his stiff penis.
Like a man possessed and eager for action Peter made a rapid ascent up Sarah's body until he was facing her once more. Then deftly adjusting her torso until she was backing him – her legs yanked widely apart, her torso pushed downwards horizontally from the waist and her buttocks forced high into the air - he quickly pulled aside the two cheeks of her bottom and directed the compact, swollen head of his penis towards them until it nudged the dripping mouth of her vagina; following which he expertly mounted Sarah, driving his shaft's full complement of fourteen inches deep inside her moistened body.
The effect on Sarah was instantaneous and powerful as this monstrous violator of her brusquely shoved aside the walls of her vagina disdainfully, the violent impact instantly bringing on in her a state of near dizziness; and this from a woman who loved sex and, moreover, had regularly been fucked since the onset of her love affair with Peter by this mini-arm of his. Yet what she was now experiencing was analogous to being a virgin all over again and being deflowered for the very first time.
Pressing both her palms securely against the two shower walls nearest her that ran at right angles to each other and between which she was artfully wedged so as to maintain her balance, Sarah felt the supportive arm of Peter encircle her midriff then dip quickly to her cute underbelly. Then as it started to spread out in a workman-like manner deep into the crevice of her pubis and onwards to her sex lips she hastily assisted its advance, biting her lips hard in the process as additionally she utilized a number of her fingers to dextrously and enterprisingly finger her sodden clitoris.
It was a reward that was soon afterwards strengthened by Peter's other hand reaching out and enveloping the pendulous orbs of her swaying breasts, which he gently steadied and fondled as he bore relentlessly into her vagina, in the process setting off in her one of her most potent teenage fantasies. From the obscure depths of her subconscious mind Sarah saw a half-suppressed memory emerge, develop in intensity and quickly trimming itself into sharp focus impact forcefully on her growing consciousness.
The impressive spectacle and haunting imagery of those two lusty animals copulating all those years back - the powerfully built and energetic stallion evidently in peak form ramming himself with innate zeal into the quivering but none the less receptive body of the tethered mare - had been a compelling and very erotic experience for her at the time and had remained so. So much so in fact that her thoughts and yearnings often, as they did now, raced back involuntarily to that moment in time as she recalled watching with total absorption and a heightened sense of sexual arousal the consummation of what was undeniably an act of raw sexuality.
Once more she was that virginal fifteen year old girl clandestinely watching from her secret vantage point the realisation of that most basic of primeval urges characteristic of all living creatures and of which she’d willingly allowed herself to become a part, as she lifted her skirt, pulled the crotch of her panties aside and eagerly set about masturbating herself, bringing herself off several times after that until the stallion dismounted and she had physically exhausted herself from her own exertions of which undeniably he’d been the catalyst, with the ensuing thrill she’d derived from this new experience effortlessly implanting in her a pubescent envy of the young mare which she had carried over into adulthood, often wondering what it was like to be fucked like that. Now she knew.
"Oh my God!" Sarah exclaimed suddenly, hurriedly hauled back to the present by the fast unfolding events that surrounded her; the faint echo of her voice trailing desultorily across her mind and itself pounded by a series of orgasmic assaults which continuously assailed it as she came repeatedly.
"You're splitting me apart."
But there was no respite from Peter or any indication at all that there might be. And what acts of mercy Sarah may have temporarily entertained on securing for herself from him on this matter were hurriedly dashed the moment Peter made his intentions clear; her plaintive cry of submission only serving as a catalyst of encouragement to him as he accelerated further the battering that he was already dishing out to her.
And as the heated frenzy of his movements generated the build-up and release of yet another orgasm from her - unleashing in its wake a surfeit of hedonistic feelings that she gamely took on board - Sarah in a frenzy of her own rashly lunged her buttocks solidly against Peter's thrusting groin and fully impaling herself on his rigid pole gave her all as she aggressively wukupped on him.
This lewd though understandable abandonment of all her inhibitions, complementing fully the rhythmic and spontaneous thrusts against Peter that she regularly continued to execute with an almost maniacal urgency, quickly spurred Peter to even greater heights in his bid to satisfy her. And when goaded by Sarah's shouted demands at him to: "Fuck me! Give it me! Go on you bastard, fuck me hard! Hurt me! Fuck my cunt, dammit! Oh yes I like it! God that's wonderful! Give me more! Pump it hard in me! Keep it coming; don’t stop! Oh Jesus Christ you're where it hurts! You're at the top! Don't move it from there darling! Please don't! Ooooww!" and similar compelling invitations laced with a plethora of obscenities and protracted yells of undiluted joy amid the incessant banging of her bum against his balls, the excitement proved too much for Peter who was already dangerously close to the threshold of his own endurance.
Moreover, with his scrotum grossly distended by the vast weight of its seminal load and creating an unstoppable urge for him to empty it there was an added incentive for Peter to press on regardless; and ably assisted in this enterprise by Sarah for whom his release rode high on a towering wave of expectations, the reciprocal desire not only to finish the job but also climax the experience on an all time high proved irresistible.
Inevitably the avidly anticipated orgasm came about - its accomplishment every bit a sustained and methodical feat as Peter and Sarah's fuck had been. Beginning its odyssey in the pit of Peter's stomach it rapidly fanned out to envelop his waist and general pubic area before eventually settling in the lap of his loins. Then like a seething volcano about to blow Peter felt his testicles quake and contract as the bubbling lava of his semen fissured its way out of their sacs and into the shaft of his penis. Simultaneously, the basic animal instinct that guarantees the survival of all living species by triggering the inclination to mate overwhelmed him, forcing him to cling tenaciously to his own mate Sarah.
Now standing on tiptoes to more easily facilitate his accelerated thrusting motion and be that better placed to maximise his discharge when it came Peter, his fingernails biting like steel pincers into Sarah's naked flesh, buried himself deeply in the yawning chasm of her throbbing pussy and in a fevered dance of rapture, in which he rocked backwards and forwards on it like a man completely possessed, willed his imminent release. But he wasn't alone in this untamed and impatient struggle for deliverance; Sarah too was close at hand and rapidly approaching her own sexual refuge. In the end it was she that broke first; her unrepressed cries of passion echoing loudly in the restricted but acoustically ideal location of the shower stall and triggering in Peter the ultimate reply.
"Give it me! All of it!" he yelled, his keen urging adding a new ardour to the sexual finale he was zealously trying to bring about. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh Jesus Christ I'm coming!" And as his impassioned cries of sexual release reverberated around the bathroom soon afterwards to be overtaken by bursts of frenzied snorts interspersed with bouts of frenetic panting from Sarah, Peter felt his penis shudder violently as his sperm shot from within him and into her waiting womb; the exquisite sensation leaving him drained and weak but enlivening Sarah as she gratefully received the hot jets of semen that were being squirted furiously into her.
"Ah! Aaah!" Peter heaved defencelessly for a full two minutes, a tortured look on his face as Sarah milked triumphantly the last remnants of come from him.
He'd reached his
Valhalla but at a price, which Sarah was still exacting.
"Oh God! Oh God! Oooh, go easy baby!" he groaned, collapsing in abject surrender as his penis convulsed repeatedly under the deliberately sustained attack of her vaginal massaging. "I'm fucked!" Peter capitulated.
Anticipating the inevitable but determined to delay it for as long as possible Sarah comfortingly reached back and placed a restraining hand on her lover's thigh.
"Stay! Please stay in me," she begged. "Don't pull out yet."
Later on in the bedroom Peter began dressing for his monthly meeting with COSH: the Caribbean Organisation of Station Heads, of which he was President. His brainchild COSH was set up shortly after he'd ruthlessly crushed an all-out strike by the media unions at the locally based problem-plagued Caribbean Broadcasting Network where he'd recently taken up the twin posts of Chief Executive and trouble-shooter at the radio and television stations. His remit, to boost productivity and dismantle the outmoded and inefficient practices that had brought the company close to bankruptcy and in turn create a highly efficient, professional and financially viable organisation that enjoyed the trust and respect of the shareholders as well as the public at large.
Sarah watched him lustfully from her vantage point in the middle of the large double bed where she'd ensconced herself.
"Must you really go to that meeting?" she asked seductively.
"Why do you ask?" Peter laughed, knowing perfectly well what the answer would be. "Why do you think?" Sarah replied.
"Don't you ever get tired of screwing?" Peter questioned affectionately, straightening his tie in a business-like fashion but without any real conviction of purpose.
Sarah saw him in the mirror and recognised the telltale signs. He was wavering. Just a little more effort on her part she told herself and he'll be a goner.
"Do you want me to?" she asked coquettishly. "Would you really want for me to be one of those goody-two-shoes types of girls who you would have to marry first before I let you get into my knickers; and who even then would restrict our sex to birthdays, the occasional holidays, and of course pay days? And when I grant you these concessions," she added, mimicking the speech and mannerisms of the well-brought and circumspect young lady, "thinking all the while of my country -
England, or wherever?" Barbados
Sarah laughed then provocatively and lasciviously trailed her right hand lasciviously over both her breasts and playfully started to tweak her nipples. "I could be if you like me that way," she said teasingly.
"Not bloody likely," Peter remarked. "Not on your Nelly!"
"Well, that's settled it then," Sarah rejoined. "So is it still going to be that important meeting or just lil ol' me?"
Peter recognised defeat when he saw it and his was staring him in the face. He wasn't a quitter by nature but there were some things you didn't fight. This was one of them.
Abandoning all pretence of getting ready he strolled over to the bed, stood beside it, and permitting his eyes to roam freely over Sarah's voluptuous body anticipated what he would do to it this time round.
But Sarah had plans of her own.
Rising regally from her reclining position she knelt on the bed and with outstretched arms drew Peter closer to her. Then with practised fingers she yanked open the knot of his tie, tossed the offending garment towards the dressing table, watched it fall short as it landed on a nearby chair and nimbly proceeded to undo the buttons of his shirt. And with each unbuttoning she glided her palm further along the contours of Peter's chest.
Feeling her intimate touch Peter closed his eyes, gasped and uttered a low moan of satisfaction. "That's nice!" he sighed. And in an attempt to reciprocate reached out to fondle Sarah's pouting pussy.
"Don't!" she sternly ordered, restraining his hand as it brushed her labia. And seeing the puzzled look on her lover's face added reassuringly: "Relax, it's my turn now."
Sarah was as good as her word. Peeling Peter's shirt from his broad back and letting it fall sloppily on the crimson carpet beneath them, she avidly turned her attention to the one item of clothing left - his underpants; and leisurely inserting her fingers in the waist band expertly removed it.
The spectacle of Peter's penis rising cobra-like from its dormant state to one of proud erection had always fascinated and excited her. This time it was no different. And with her sexual appetite re-awakened and gaining in intensity each moment Sarah promptly leant forward, gently but firmly took this mini-monster into her soft, skilful hands and straightaway started to stroke it, sliding in masturbatory fashion the hood of its foreskin over its giant head.
"Oh, that's lovely!" Peter groaned in pleasurable persecution, pushing his legs further apart the better to withstand this agreeable violation of his person. "You're making me bloody hot!"
Pleased by this and other encouraging signs from him Sarah hastened her animation, making a number of rapid, jerking movements of Peter's phallus - the churning motion forcing him hastily onto tiptoes. But with the same suddenness with which it had begun she stopped, allowed Peter to revert to his previous posture as the tension in him dipped, and then with a devilish glint in her eye slowly husked him again in the self-same style as one would do a ripe ear of corn.
Stripped of its protective sheath and with its cutting edge laid bare Peter's glistening sword: the device on which Sarah would willingly in the final throes of her own ecstasy impale herself and the contrivance by which she would also engineer her own petit mort stood poised all set for action. But that was still some ways off. The present, meanwhile, had an urgency of its own.
Cupping Peter's scrota in the palm of her left hand and fondly fingering them like a Catholic devotee would a well-rubbed rosary while simultaneously using her right hand to full advantage Sarah took hold of and sensuously stroked the full length of his giant phallus; then dipping her head cunningly against his groin, snuggled her face sensuously against its sinewy texture.
Peter keenly observed her, a groundswell of emotions stirring perceptibly inside him.
"Don't stop," he pleaded. "That's beautiful!"
Sarah grinned impishly, and arching herself cat-like until her mouth was adjacent to the upper quadrant of the huge sausage she was holding on to, brought the tip of it to the portals of her waiting lips. As she did so the man-smell emanating from Peter's groin was quite pervasive and an added incentive to what quickly followed, for expanding her jaws in the manner of a snake about to engulf and consume its prey she decisively came down on Peter’s throbbing pillar of manhood.
"Oh yeah!" Peter groaned as the piston-like motion of his lover’s head picked up and sustained its momentum.
But Sarah was already in full stride and too busy to take much notice. She loved sex of any description as long as it was wholesome and ethical, and the more nurkle she got the better she obviously felt. But there was one type of sexual intercourse that she was particularly partial to and it was oral sex - the thought alone of which, especially when she was in control as she was now, made her absolutely weak at the knees.
Though she would never admit it openly she was rather good at it too. And precisely how good Peter already knew as the mind-boggling sensations he was experiencing in his testes manifested, and the frenzy of Sarah’s frouncing demonstrated.
Meticulously alternating the rhythmic up-and-down-motion of her mouth over Peter's penis with sessions of sustained sucking and drawing the stiff shaft as far back into her throat as she could without suffocating herself Sarah used her supple hands to skilfully squeeze and milk it, simultaneously earnestly striving for her lover's absolute surrender. In response to this Peter whimpered like a baby, his stomach muscles clenched as Sarah relentlessly razzled him.
"Oh Lord! Oh Lord! Oh God! Yes! Do it girl! Do it! Ohhh!" he cried.
But Sarah was pitiless in her attack, energetically extracting every ounce of pleasure from him; the tantalising torment teasing every tortured tissue in his trembling thighs.
Earlier Peter had thumped the air with his fists as each turn of the ratchet of Sarah's frouncing wrenched from him the latest surge of passion. Now, as his powerful climax built up rapidly inside him, he wildly grabbed her hair and in unison with her bobbing head rocked backwards and forwards against her beautiful face, thrusting in the process his swollen salami firmly against the roof of her cavernous mouth. Sarah gobbled it up, breathing heavily through her nose, the stuffing of her mouth by this huge penis making any attempt at breathing through her mouth an impossible task.
Oftimes Peter had masturbated at home or occasionally in a lonely hotel room during his many travels overseas when no woman was readily available or he just didn't want the hassle of getting one, screwing her and then having to ask her to leave because he afterwards preferred his own company. The kind of solo job all men, and he suspected a passable number of women also, like to undertake from time to time. The primary and often the only objective being the functional relief of sexual tension. Then he could give full rein to whatever sexual fantasy he preferred without having to bother about pleasing someone else. But even the most compelling of these fantasies, he cheerfully admitted, couldn't match what Sarah was capable of instilling within him
However, reminiscences of other sexual jaunts were short-lived as he found himself hurriedly hauled back to the present. Sensing the imminence of his orgasm - incipient rumblings in his balls informing him that the first jets of sperm had left their scrota and were on their way - Sarah bit, chewed and sucked unremittingly on the outsize toothpick in her sole possession like a woman possessed.
But time was rapidly running out. And on the point of its explosion, she snatched the snorting snout from her active mouth and gripping it perpendicularly but firmly in both hands between her face and Peter's abdomen pressed her thumb resolutely and hard over its bulging tip; a temporary but effective device to ensure that nothing was missed. Then at the appropriate moment she released her finger's grip.
Like a harpooned whale Peter thrashed about wildly, yelling a plethora of obscenities as his blowhole erupted, fountaining his hot semen high into the air, where on reaching its maximum trajectory it umbrellaed in a wide arc before cascading in a multitude of glistening globules of creamy come over Sarah's hair, and in the process forming in the process tiny rivulets that trickled down her face.
"Shoot it! Shoot it!" Sarah urged excitedly as she vigorously pumped the throbbing pestle vomiting its contents like a gushing geyser over her ministering fingers. "Let me have it! Let me have all of it!"
Standing high on arched feet, every muscle in his body taut to the point of snapping, Peter squealed like a stuck pig about to die in an abattoir.
"Aaah!" he cried as the last shot of sperm squirted from out of him forcing his legs to buckle under the impact of his emptying. "I'm knackered!"
"Not half as much as you're going to be when I'm through with you," Sarah promised ominously. "I've only just started."
That said she gloved the tip of Peter's shnorzle, leisurely began to lick it, and then sucked it deeply into her mouth. She'd begun the process of rejuvenation.
"Ooooh, no more! No more!" Peter begged. "I can't take any more."
On the upward stroke of her mouth Sarah temporarily plucked the physically stressed stalk from her lips. "You will, believe me you will," she cooed perversely.
However, seeing the physical state her man was in and not sure that he was capable of standing on his feet she tempered her ardent desires with a measure of compassion.
"Lie down," she ordered firmly.
Peter obeyed, glad of the opportunity to rest his aching muscles. But the respite was brief. Lying top-to-tail over his prostrate body Sarah crushed her hot, wet mozzart up forcibly against his mouth at the same time impaling with measured force her ravenous lips on to his rock hard penis.
It was a pleasurable suffocation for Peter: Sarah covering his face in this manner, the titillating warmth of her body stirring in him a rampant desire to have her once more in spite of the shattering tiredness he otherwise felt. And when she started to wiggle her pussy lips wantonly and teasingly against his mouth it was more than mortal man could bear; and readily recognising his own fallibility he quickly succumbed to her.
That the feeling was a good one Peter was in no doubt as he relished what Sarah was doing to him; and in response he played the tip of his probing tongue skilfully along the edges of her bloated sex lips now drenched in their love juices, creating in the process a condition that was made increasingly pleasurable for him by Sarah’s reciprocal gesture of raising her bottom to further assist him at each investigative stab of his busy tongue working its way methodically deep inside the sodden mouth of her vagina.
Before long they were at each other like hammer and tongs. Peter, his huge member standing proudly before him and fully observed by Sarah, was making a number of loud suggestions about what he wanted to do to her; but it quickly became apparent that she was sticking not only to the spirit but the letter of the promise that she had earlier made.
Rising suddenly from her previously assumed position Sarah moved to Peter’s mid-section and promptly squatted over his pizzle, and with Peter observing her every move searched out, found, and began masturbating her clitoris.
The yoghurty drips that fell over Peter's loins evoked in him a surfeit of lust. He just had to be involved; but Sarah was having none of it.
"Uh-uh," she cautioned, shaking her head as an added warning. "You've already had your turn. It's mine now." And pushing Peter's raised trunk away from her until he was lying flat on the bed once more, speared herself vigorously on his hoisted lance. For all that she didn't stay long. A few warm up jabs on it and she was off again, this time also vacating the bed.
Briskly turning to a separate stereo unit that she kept in her bedroom Sarah switched it on, slipped a cassette made up of a compilation of her favourite records into the deck, set the volume and waited; then as the melodious strains of the Commodores' smash hit Just to be close to you spun its magical mood across the room she moved to the middle of the floor and started to dance.
What followed next was a highly entertaining and evocative spectacle - the dance of the seven veils but without the veils; a horny rendition of a sexual exposition at which Sarah really excelled. And judging by Peter's initial reaction: the sly, boyish grin on his face and the stealthy movement of his hand in the direction of his bulging horn, it was very obvious that he was rather impressed by the performance.
Encouraged by this silent but undeniably avid approval Sarah danced on, massaging her breasts enticingly as she thrust them high and upwards away from her body as she skirted across the floor, simultaneously maintaining her immaculate balance and rhythm to the music.
"You like it?" she asked salaciously.
"Rather," Peter replied, hooked as much on the performance as the performer herself.
"And you want to have me, don't you?"
"Please," came the hungry response.
Sarah smirked in appreciation.
"What if I were to refuse you?" she asked, playfully bringing her down-turned palms in girlish pretence over her lunging labia that was the focus of Peter's attention. "What would you do then?"
"Suppose I fight back?"
“I’ll overcome you, pin you down and make sure you couldn’t move," Peter replied.
"And what then?"
"Rape and fuck your pussy till your own screams drive you crazy. And then I'll jerk my come all over you."
The words were slow and calculating but their effect on Sarah was spontaneous and highly stimulating.
"Uhh!" she gasped, closing her eyes briefly and inhaling a deep breath as a battery of lurid fantasies assailed her mind. "Would you now?" she added, with more than a hint of expectancy lightening up her face.
"Sure will!" Peter affirmed, a resolute nod backing up his declaration.
"I'd like that," Sarah confessed.
"Then come here and do what you're supposed to," Peter ordered, "unless you want me to come and get you."
"Promises, promises," Sarah teased flouting the order, and in the process heightening the challenge that was thrown down at her.
"I'm warning you!" Peter insisted.
"So what's keeping you then?" Sarah replied saucily.
Peter already propped up on one elbow the better to observe Sarah’s act straightened himself into a sitting position and swinging his leg over the side of the bed made as if he would carry out his threat; but Sarah anticipating his intention had already moved away.
"I'm serious!" Peter maintained "And if you don't believe me you'll quickly discover that I am. For if you think you can carry on like this regardless of how I feel, I shan't let you. And when that time comes I won't have any hesitation in placing you across my knees and really whipping your ass."
"Oh please!" Sarah sighed approvingly; adding in her most seductive manner: "Will you do that daddy? Please say you will!" Then following a short burst of spontaneous laughter announced: "Cor! I do love it when you're masterful like that. Will you also talk dirty to me when we fuck again?"
Just how far Peter would have got in carrying out his sexual fantasy, which for Sarah was a huge turn-on as well, was never put to the test. For when the opportunity looked at its most promising the Commodores' record came to its climax and was immediately replaced by the stirring strains of the 1988 Olympic theme song: a record which Peter liked immensely but whose musical interpretation by Sarah, expressive and innovative as it was, was a far cry he surmised from what the composer ever envisaged or intended when he wrote it.
None the less the things that Sarah did to herself were truly fascinating to watch: like the natural way she used every curve, sinew and muscle of her body to thrill. So too the sensual way in which she employed her fingers both to frig herself and as implements to scoop out her love juices which she then smeared over her lips and nipples, utilizing her tongue afterwards like a Kleenex to partially wipe her fingers dry before poking them slowly through half-closed lips towards the back of her mouth to finish the task there.
Given this kind of performance by her it would have been foolhardy for Peter to have interfered. And when Sarah sauntered over to the large dressing table which formed the central part of a spacious built-in walled unit of cupboards and shelf space, opened a top drawer and pulled out a full-size, ebony-coloured vibrator that she then switched on and began to use on herself, he knew he was right.
"My God! Is there nothing this woman won't do?" Peter heard himself thinking, and watched in total amazement as Sarah rotated the juddering tip of this black vibrator over the tips of her taut nipples, her heaving chest and flat stomach; along the insides of her smooth, silky thighs; to and fro between her clenched back passage playfully touching the rim of her anus; and over the trembling lips of her paccalacca, before finally dipping the whirring head of her animated sex toy into the distended mouth of her steaming sex chasm where she instantly began to ride it as she would a bucking bronco.
"Ride it baby! Ride it!" Peter encouraged. "Give it all you've got!"
Sarah eagerly obliged. And such was the verve and dexterity with which she carried out her geschlectstanz that it would have required a super human effort on Peter's part - or any red-blooded male come to that in identical circumstances watching this crafted exhibition by Sarah - to stay calm let alone have the will power to resist such temptation and not be desirous of playing with himself too. Peter given the situation that he found himself in had no misapprehensions or moral qualms about his supposed will power and as such unashamedly, though unhurriedly, began to milk himself.
Sarah looked on appreciatively as she propelled herself to higher heights, the vibrator whirring on relentlessly inside her, splashing specks of her love juices randomly across her thighs. But delighted as she was by Peter's direct response to her exhibition she was nevertheless concerned by it lest he got so carried away as to bring himself off, and that was something that she most definitely didn't want to happen outside the portals of her own pussy or before she was ready to explode herself; an accomplishment that although it was her ultimate aspiration she wanted to savour for as long as possible, and therefore was most reluctant to advance too rapidly.
"Go carefully love," she cautioned. "Don't spill it now. You wouldn't want to create an unnecessary oil slick over the carpet, would you?"
"Don't worry," he said. "I've always been a friend of the environment. And where oil is concerned I always ensure that I put it in a safe container. So nothing has changed in that respect."
"I'm glad to hear that," Sarah replied, an affectionate smile lighting up her face as she kept her own drilling operation going. However, she'd perceptibly moved closer to Peter and was progressively continuing to do so until she was now quite close to him. Then in a single movement which had her drawing the vibrator out of her vagina and arching it high into the air she brought it down slowly, placed it carefully against Peter's mouth and repeatedly rubbed it along his lips.
"Suck it baby!" she commanded. "Suck my honey."
Her whim gratified Sarah still wasn't finished and soon moved on to the next stage of her seduction scenario. Snatching the vibrator abruptly from Peter's lips she switched it off and tossed it on to the bed.
As if on cue the Beatles hit Obla-di, Obla-da poured out of the speakers. The change of musical tempo also brought with it a new development.
"Lie back darling," Sarah commanded softly in her best Eartha Kitt voice.
"What are you up to now?" Peter asked slightly puzzled.
"Wait and see," came the blunt reply.
"I have been for what seems like hours in case you've forgotten," Peter protested.
"Don't be so impatient," Sarah suggested. "All good things come to those who wait."
"Forget the good things and bugger your waiting!" Peter snarled. "Right now I'd like to do some coming of my own."
"And you will," Sarah replied, a hint of menace in her voice. "Believe me you will!"
The solid prospect of Peter's ultimate pleasure now pegged firmly on her promise Sarah climbed on to the bed and squatted over her lover's shnorzle. With accustomed familiarity she greedily grasped its head, held it at the mouth of her mozzart and slowly wukupped over it. The thrill that Peter got as his phallus brushed her sex lips, and with Sarah thwarting every attempt of his to penetrate her, was agonising.
"Naughty boy!" she admonished him, shaking her head disapprovingly as she slipped away each time. "Now you know perfectly well you shouldn't do things like that."
"Come on!" Peter begged frantically. "Stop messing me about! My balls are bursting for a fuck."
"Tut, tut!" Sarah scolded. "Such profane language and to a lady as well. I don't know what the world's coming to these days; as there seems to be absolutely no respect for authority.” She looked at Peter with soulful eyes and emitted sigh of disappointment, then in crest-fallen fashion turned her face away from him. "How can I honestly reward you as you want me to and I truly desire if you're going to behave like that?" she asked.
"Pack the melodrama in will you? You're just a bloody teaser - that's what you are!" Peter observed. "You know exactly what you're doing and how to work me as if I were putty in your hands leaving you in control; and you’re loving every bit of it, aren't you?"
"You better believe it," Sarah boasted.
"Bitch! I hope my dick goes soft on you when you need it most and stays that way," Peter retorted.
"No chance. It knows what's best for it,” Sarah replied confidently.
"That's just it! The bloody thing's got a mind of its own."
"Hardly surprising when you consider who the owner is."
"Thanks, but that's not exactly a plus right now, is it?"
"Oh you poor thing," Sarah consoled, "are you feeling hard done by?"
"Screw you!" Peter snapped ill-tempered.
"No! I'm screwing you," Sarah reminded him.
"Whatever," Peter acquiesced.
Sensing that Peter had used up his tolerance of her teasing him and would, were she to continue much further with it, wrest the initiative even forcibly from her and have his way with her, Sarah decided to give up her harassment of him but not without one final fling to clearly demonstrate she was still very much in charge. So delicately taking hold of his penis she cuddled, kissed and spoke to it like she would with a very young baby.
"I think daddy is getting angry because mummy hasn't fed baby yet," she babbled sympathetically. "But baby has nothing at all to worry about as mummy won't ever let you go hungry because she's got your favourite din-dins all ready for you in the oven."
"You're nuts, positively nuts!" Peter said amused but deeply gratified, his impatience with Sarah already on the wane.
"And you love every bit of me, admit it," Sarah challenged.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," Peter confessed.
"Well that's my reward I guess - now here's yours," Sarah promised, and immediately set about honouring her pledge.
There are some things that take long to happen, that never seem like materialising no matter how long you wait although you know in your heart of hearts that they inevitably must; and the realisation of which when this occurs is of such great import that its true significance often isn’t fully appreciated in the heat of the moment and so one must wait until the event is over when calm reflection and reason can accumulatively put matters into a meaningful and more appreciative perspective for all concerned.
The fuck that Sarah gave Peter was one of such event.
For she literally steamrollered him; sucked every ounce of vigour from him; flattened and frounced him; and only when he lay half-dead on the bed shuddering with fatigue did she allow herself the luxury of release.
And what a release!
Bucking frantically like an unproven mare and clutching frenziedly at her breasts and clit at the same time, Sarah, her womb rumbling violently like a volcano in the throes of erupting while spewing out in the process some of the contents which Peter had earlier spouted into it, let out a piercing cry and surrendered herself to a shattering orgasm.
Her prime objective achieved but totally frazzled by her demanding exertions she fell off Peter; quite unable to support herself any longer and totally exhausted she laid down beside him his semi-erect penis still interred inside her body.
It was still there some considerable time later when the theme song: Always There, from the BBC television series The Onedin Line comprehensively filled the bedroom with its melodious strains. Instinctively, the two lovers who in the intervening period had caught their second wind looked at each other and smiled.
"You can say that again!" Sarah remarked.
"How true," Peter chuckled.
© Stanley V. Collymore 1990.