Jo Dawg - Lust with a Lady tonight

The result of her climax flowed from her cunt and bathed both their bodies. It made her whole body alive on his driving rod. The added lubrication only seemed to drive him on as he continued to furiously, relentlessly slam his prick into her spasming cunt.

She was a sudden slave to his cock. She couldn't get enough of it. She was completely open to his furious slamming. He increased his speed. His hips slapped against her body with a force that shook the bed.

Her stomach began to clench again… another climax! She felt she was going to burst open from the battering of his hot and frothing cock. Her hole closed around the spearing tool.

"Ohhhh, Wiley, I'm coming again!"

"Come… come… come," he chanted.

"It's beautiful! I'm coming so fucking good! Ohhhh, fuck me… fuck meeeeeeee!"

His hips slapped against her like they were powered by an engine. His balls were hard and tight. They bounced up against her ass in a way that titillated her even more. She felt still another come breaking forth in her throbbing cunt.

"Again… oh, Jesus, I'm making it againnnnnnn!"

"I'm coming with you!" he yelled, jamming his cock to the hilt.

His prick jerked as she clamped it harder. It exploded inside her cant hole with the force of a bomb, sending the hot streams of his cum deeply into her belly.

She cried out as her cant contracted around his pumping prick. He ground his hips into her. His groans made her muscles tense as the hot juice poured out of her pussy.

His balls shot torrents of jism that filled her cunt to overflowing. Still their bodies bucked together. His cock seemed to grow and swell inside her the more they came.

She had nearly fainted with the joy of his first, spastic come. And now, as his cock continued to unload in her, she felt yet another orgasm overwhelm her.

They rocked and twisted together, their pubic hairs wet, matted patches of cam. The juices from their fuck drenched them.

Finally, Wiley's thrusts began to slow. Her cunt didn't clamp so hard on his meat anymore. She felt his prick lose some of its iron hardness.

It was finally over.

He collapsed on top of her and she unlocked her legs from around his back. They both lay still and panted, straining to fill their lungs with much needed air.

"Jesus," she moaned, "that was a fuck."

"You're fantastic!"

"I don't know how long you're going to be here, but while you are, we're gonna be one happy little family!"

Celeste was a woman's name, but it had been a man who had done the most damage to Ginny Monet. There wasn't much doubt about that. And to find the man, Wiley knew he would have to find Celeste.

From an underground newspaper, he got a list of gay bars. They broke down into male, female, and mixed. He broke the females into regions, and spent the rest of the afternoon sipping drinks and being stared at by bulls and winked at by femmes who wanted to see his ass kicked by their bulls. Most of them looked like they could do it.

And then he hit LaBelle's.

She was wearing sky-blue hot pants that crawled up into the crack of her cunt and a thin halter that barely contained the biggest pair of tits Wiley'd ever seen. She looked at him as if he had just crawled out from under the john and wiggled over to his place at the bar.

"Hi, shit. Whatta you want in here?"

"You LaBelle?"

"LaBelle is good pussy and you ain't gettin' any of it. Get out. This is a ladies bar."

Wiley laid a twenty on the bar. "Bourbon, water, keep the change."

She fixed the drink, brought it back, and tucked the bill into her halter. "Drink fast."

"Ask you a couple of questions?"

She paused. "Depends."

"Looking for a girl. Her name is Celeste."

"Celeste what?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know any Celeste. Goodbye."

Wiley moved toward the door, shaking his head. He paused outside and lit a cigarette, deciding where to go next.

Suddenly, he felt a tug at his arm. He turned to see a pretty little thing with pert breasts, a tiny waist and a tired face.

"I know a Celeste."

"Is she gay?"

"All the way. She's an artist."

"Where?"

"You got two more of those?"

"Those what?"

"Twenties. I'm a working girl. I dig chicks for kicks, but I fuck boys for toys."

"You're cute." He tore two bills in half and handed her two of the halves. "Show me Celeste for the rest."

She pressed a piece of paper into his hand. "Show up around eleven tomorrow. Tell her you want a portrait painted."

Before he could ask her more, she was gone. Wiley checked his watch. It was after eleven and he was beat. He grabbed a cab and headed back to his new apartment.

He was just putting his key in the door when he heard a noise behind him.

It was Trina, still in shorts and braless halter. He seemed to be running into that style a lot. She was carrying a tray.

"I thought you might like a midnight snack."

He smiled. "What's on the tray?… you?"

"The tray now, me later," she said, moving into the room behind him and placing the tray on the dresser.

Wiley chuckled. Trina was a welcome relief to the type of women he'd been meeting all afternoon. He remembered how he had found her in his bed earlier, and how good it had been. He was beat, but still…

"Listen, you're taking a hell of a chance. What if your old man or your mother catch you?"

"Pop hasn't any backbone anyway. He's like a jelly fish. You don't have to worry about him. As for Mom…" Trina shrugged her shoulders "… I'll fix her up with someone else."

Wiley edged his words with anger. "That's no way to talk about…"

"Oh, skip it. And don't preach to me. You don't know how it is with me. Don't worry, I won't burden you with my problems. But don't be a bleeding heart. I can't stand that."

Wiley looked at her. She was still a little girl, but he knew how much woman she could turn into. "Thanks for the sandwich."

"Just want you to keep your strength up. Leave your door unlocked."

"Like hell I will."

"You'd better," Trina said grimly. "Or I'll make a scene. I've got a healthy pair of lungs."

Wiley looked at her built form, at the freckles dotting across her nose. She looked like a kid fresh out of a country farm, but she was actually a hellcat who knew all the tricks and then some.

"I'm beat, baby," he said.

"I'll wake you up."

"You probably will." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I don't perform, then don't blame me. You've been warned."

She slid through the door and gently closed it behind her.

Laura Fine listened at Wiley's door. When she heard Trina getting ready to leave, she darted down the stairs and into her own apartment.

Two minutes later Trina walked in. She took one look at her mother's face, and knew.

Laura shook her head and looked grimly at her daughter. "You little bum." She kept her voice down. Her husband was in bed and she didn't want to wake him. Not that he would be awakened anyway, even by an earthquake, with all the alcohol floating through him.

"You heard?"

"Damn right. You'll end up a whore; you will."

"That's my business," Trina exploded.

"Well, you ain't leavin' your room tonight, I guarantee that. Now go to bed and stay there!"

A subdued Trina walked into her bedroom and locked the door. Shit. That was that, she thought. But there would be other nights.

Laura Fine passed her snoring, limp dicked husband on the bed and went into the bath. As she started to step into the shower, she caught a glimpse of her nude body in the mirror. For some reason it shocked her to realize how well her firm, smooth-skinned figure compared to her daughter's.

She wondered if Trina had already laid him. Probably, she thought, but he'll find out that this old lady can give him one hell of a ride, too.