Theodore Stickles: Prisoner Of Lust

He sat up and such was his strength, his size, and his agility that even sitting up he could still hump her up and down, bend her legs up past her ears and keep her spinning while still feeding his firm eight inches into her, bouncing her up and down atop and around his erotic pogo stick. Only now he was no longer turning her by her tiny waist. Now her full firm jugs were his handles and he was spinning her faster, so fast they stuck out even straighter, more provocatively skyward-pointing and with each turn he ducked his face in to plant a kiss on first one humming, thrumming, rock-hard nipple and then the other. And oh Jesus chauvinist, didn't it ever feel gooooood!

She could feel great rhythmic contractions course through her, each surge of erotic joy leaving behind a tiny residual tension that accreted to the next pulsation of lust until her whole body vibrated with an ecstasy of anticipation. God but it was great to be fucking again, to feel a hot hard male back in the saddle, making his fleshy offering to the temple of her emancipated flesh, straining and tearing himself to erotic bits as he struggled to pleasure her throbbing body.

She could feel herself still spinning on his purple-tipped turntable, feel herself sliding up and down that prurient prod, feel her body reacting to something she had not learned in law school, her whole being responding to an older, more natural law that she had never learned how to repeal.

Her flesh was quivering with sweet torment, not just her belly but her whole body. With each turn he kissed a nipple, thus managing to keep both of those sensitive tips of her tits vibrating with a hope of future joy, of more, faster, deeper, now!

The eight-inch auger that bored into her quivering flesh seemed capable of fulfilling, filling her full, of delivering on the most outrageous of campaign promises. My god, did it ever feel gooood!

It felt so good she knew it could not last much longer. Nothing was forever-especially nothing this mind-blowingly, flesh-meltingly good. Even as she spun, Orbiting around that erotic center to her being, she sensed that the pivot on which she rotated was subject to the same physical laws as her lusting body. It was just a question of which of them would come first. Which of them would know joyous fulfillment and which would be left high and dry, needing, wanting, shedding tears of frustration and rage?

Then suddenly she knew which one it was to be. She felt all those tense rubber bands inside her thrumming belly start to snap one by one and then suddenly she was coming right in two, in three, into tiny shattered pieces of love's culmination. Maybe she wasn't exactly coming in two but Paula knew with utter certainty that she was coming.

Still in the throes of orgasm, she struggled with tangled sheets and a growing feeling of familiarity. Damn! Did she have to dream off this way every night? Two or three times a night? Her cunt was sopping with love's lubrication and she was sticky all over. She got up grumbling and changed the sheets. Still muttering, she showered off and went back to a clean dry bed, knowing that unless she took enough sleeping pills to make her useless and stupid all next day, that it would probably happen again before morning. Maybe she ought to see a doctor.

A doctor with an eight-inch cock?

It was so exhausting to try to stay angry with the whole world, with herself, with a creator who gave her a body with certain instincts and then dumped her in a society where… It was, she decided with a certain accuracy, a pain in the ass.

And having delivered herself of this prosaic opinion, Paula finally dropped once more into confused sleep where she toyed with rape, with venery, with lust and perversions of infinite variety until she was interrupted in a mountain-climbing expedition, interrupted halfway up the slopes of Mount Orgasm by the tearing, jarring, tinkle of an indefatigable alarm clock.

"God damn it!" she greeted the new day. As she came fully awake her disposition was not improved by the memory of what she had to do that morning. Muttering curses like an angry Druid, she got her hair up in a chignon so tight it threatened to pull her eyes into a slant. Remembering the creases from bra and bikini panties, she got into the long-sleeved, floor length formal and began hanging the too-tight garment about her full-cut body, using pins and brooches wherever the endless rows of buttons refused to meet.

Goddam, eye balling assholes that surrounded Hizzonner the Mayor would probably think the ancient dress was designed to go on her this way, with a gap here and there to make things interesting.

She glanced at the clock and-shit! She had less than fifteen minutes. Hastily, she gave herself a final mirror check and decided it was good enough. She rushed about the house looking at window latches and spring locks. She got in the Datsun, touched the garage door opener gadget, backed out, and was on her way full speed ahead and damn the fuzz.

It was three minutes of eight when she surrendered her Datsun to the underground parking attendant at City Hall. The goddam long skirt caught in the automatic elevator door and she had to push the red emergency button, which cost her another thirty seconds before she could make the goddam door close again and the elevator start moving. She had to present a smiling, trouble-free countenance to Hizzonner and the TV crew. How could she manage to conceal the fact that she was boiling inside? Goddam chauvinist pigs! Why did she have to wear this silly thing? If they wanted sex appeal why not get a pretty boy? After all, that kind of swinger voted too.

It felt funny to be hurrying along without any panties. It felt funny without any pantyhose either-striding across the marble first floor of City Hall and feeling her bare inner thighs rub gently against each other with each step, feel the labia of her blond-furred vulva move back and forth past each other with a sensation very like something-hot, hard, and male coursing in and out of her with every step.

This early in the morning there was nobody much in City Hall except the regulars. It would be another hour before the endless stream of citizens, losers, and politicos began wheeling and dealing. The janitor and the crippled woman at the news and candy stand looked at a woman in evening dress at eight ay emm with glazed eyes that had seen everything.

Paula tried not to think about the odd feeling in her crotch as she hurried across the marble atrium toward the escalator. The goddam dress was like a hobble and she couldn't make any time. She picked up the skirt with one hand and it tangled slightly less with each hurried step. There was one longhair on the escalator ahead of her. He glanced back and suddenly began running up the escalator. She wondered if she was that frightening and then saw the minicam. He was one of the TV crews who were here to film Hizzonner getting this goddam plaque.

Plaque-what plaque? It was one minute of eight. She hoped somebody up on the next floor at the head of the escalator would have remembered the damned thing. As if Hizzonner needed another plaque. Must have enough to shingle his hunting lodge already.

The escalator gave a slight boggle and she nearly lost her balance. All she needed was for this damned thing to quit now so she could arrive completely breathless. Damn her itching pussy! Shouldn't have pulled her chignon quite so tight. It was stretching her eyes clear out of shape.

The escalator glitched again and she dropped her skirt as she grabbed at the handrail. Quit fussing, she told herself. Nobody in this town's ever on time. You'll be the first one here and you'll have coffee and a cigarette with the newsmen and the TV people who've all seen it more times than you have and you'll all laugh at Hizzonner's latest stupidity and finally an hour and forty minutes from now when he does arrive with booze on his breath you'll get on with this goddam presentation and it'll last all of seven seconds on the evening news and then you can forget this chauvinistic crap and get back to your own office and get some work done.