Rick Arledge: Young pussy

He crossed his legs and moved his hand more slowly over the now bulbous head of his throbbing cock. The semen oozed from his cock hole and kept the lather slippery. He bent further over his cock and opened his mouth. He felt the pressures in his balls and at the base of his shaft build up. He stroked very lightly now and his orgasm approached very slowly. More semen gurgled from his urethra. His other hand pulled and massaged on his balls. He squeezed and twisted them until they pained and his beating hand started to pick up speed. Elton crossed his legs tighter and tried to hold this gusher back. He opened his mouth wider and his cock erupted its white fire.

Each throb made his excited cock pump another hot jet of white sticky sperm upwards into his open mouth. He savored the taste and rolled it around on his tongue before he swallowed the white stickiness. The vision that had been so vivid a moment ago was gone. Sandy's commanding voice and exposed pussy were no longer there and his cock became once more flaccid. "Well, I guess I better finish shaving, so I won't be late for work."

Elton went to the kitchen and took three different brands of cold cereal from the shelf and poured a portion of each into a large soup bowl. He carefully measured out six ounces of milk in a measuring cup and poured this over his cereal. The instant coffee was measured out very carefully and boiling water of the right relative proportion was poured into his cup. Elton was very meticulous and organized. He never did anything without first thinking about it six times. Hemming and hawing about it six times and then finally not doing anything. It was only when somebody was able to pressure Elton into something that Elton ever did anything. Elton sat in the dim light of his grey dreary kitchen and decided that now was the time to telephone Sandy.

The phone rang and Sandy rolled to her side trying to avoid its insistent sound. The phones tintinnabulation was never ending and she decided that since it wasn't going to stop, she had better answer it; and find out who in the hell could be calling her at seven a.m. in the morning.

"Hello."

Elton didn't answer.

Sandy repeated louder and in a more commanding voice, "Hello! Who in the hell is this?"

Elton swallowed and replied, "Good morning. I just thought that I would call you up and wake you, just to say hello. I've just been thinking about you and I couldn't resist just calling to say hello."

"You God damn son of a bitch. You dirty bastard. You have your fucking nerve calling me a this damn hour. Do I have to tell you everything? Man alive, get smart. Don't bug me at this hour ever again! Are you listening to me? I'll call you later when I get good and ready. You just had better be by the God damn phone, otherwise your shit out of luck! Do you understand Elton? Do you get the message? Do I have to spell it out for you again? Don't call me on the phone at this hour."

Elton's wang started to throb when Sandy spoke to him this way. Here was a woman who took command of the situation. He replied, "I'll be home from work at six o'clock tonight and I'll wait by the phone."

Sandy said, "You'd better!" and she slammed the telephone receiver down into its cradle.

The loud click hit Elton's ear drum and somehow vibrated down to a throb in his cock. Elton made a note on his pad; Sandy, 7 a.m. local call and the number.

Elton left the house five minutes later than usual. He couldn't quite understand how he was suddenly very late to work. To Elton, late meant less than a half hour before clock-in time. He didn't like anybody to be able to say that he was late or unreliable.

That evening after work Elton came out of the subway still behind his normal time schedule. It would be impossible for him to be at home by six p.m., but he hurried anyway. A quick stop at the A amp;P and he picked up a TV dinner and a bottle of Pepsi. Then he rushed to a different supermarket where oranges were on sale. "Nobody could say that Elton was a spend thrift," he said out loud as he paid for his two oranges. Thus laden, he scurried out of the supermarket towards his co-op apartment on the 15th floor. As he fumbled with the keys, he could bear the phone ringing in his apartment. The steel door became an opponent and the key just wouldn't slide into the lock. The phone rang and rang again and just as Elton burst through the door of his apartment the ringing ceased.

Elton put his food on a table and walked back to the door and removed his keys. He closed the door softly and threw the bolt. He looked at his watch and saw that it was fourteen minutes after six p.m. "I wonder if that was Sandy calling," he muttered. He lit the oven and set the thermostat following the exact printed instructions that were printed on the TV dinner package.

He sat down and peeled an orange; while he waited for the TV dinner to cook. Elton had just shoved a segment of the orange into his mouth when the phone rang. He gulped hard and the orange juice ran from the corners of his mouth and dribbled to his chin.

"Hello," he slurped. The orange was still caught in his mouth.

"Elton where were you? I called you before. You were not home. Where the hell were you? Didn't I tell you to wait for me to call. Man alive, I thought you were dependable. Even when I tell you what to do, you screw it all up. Haven't you got any God damn brains? Well, tell me why weren't you home?"

"Errr, errr… well. I was late this morning and I just couldn't catch up with myself all day."

"Elton, I don't want to hear this shit. You just get your ass over here and take me out to dinner."

"But, I… already got a TV dinner in the oven and…"

Sandy interrupted, "Well throw it out and get your clothes on and get over here. I'll expect you at seven-fifteen and bring your charge cards. I've invited a few friends to come alone."

"Well… ah ah hhh…"

"Never mind the shit, get over here!" and Sandy banged the phone down.

Sandy sat back and thought about where she would tell Elton to take her to eat. She really didn't have any guests, but she just wanted to test a little of her power out on Elton. While she had been talking to Elton, her legs were wide spread and she sat upright on a leather arm chair. Her pussy had dribbled onto the smooth shiny leather and made it slippery. She wriggled her buttocks into the slime and slid in a tight circle on the leather surface. The feeling of leather excited Sandy and she pictured herself in her leather outfit directing Elton her slave in various situations.

Sandy took her right index finger and put in on the soft down covered mons. She cupped her palm and massaged gently. She felt her split open and begin to throb. She looked down and pushed her finger between her slippery outer cuntlips just barely touching them. The sensation of her forefinger slipping softly in between her Labia Majora made her writhe in her own cream that dribbled from her hot wet pussy. Her finger slid back and forth and the sensation was maddening.

Sandy threw one leg over the arm of the chair and hooked her forefinger into the opening of her honey pot. She wondered what Elton would be like when he came to pick her up. She opened her eyes and withdrew her finger from her hot quim and said to herself, 'I'll save it for later and then it'll be better.'

The doorbell rang and Elton held some flowers out to Sandy, "I thought you would like these flowers."

Sandy took the flowers and said, "Oh thank you. You're a darling."

Elton stepped into the foyer and Sandy closed the door after him. In the process of hooking the door chain into its place her dressing gown slid open exposing the whiteness of her globes. A thin line of white connected both titties. This line was where the two bikini brassiere cups were pulled towards each other, by a fine ribbon.