Ron Taylor: Roped and raped

"And this is the bedroom," said Angela, doing a pirouette as she led me in.

I went to her, put my hands on her waist, and buried my face in the angle of her neck. She tasted like fresh peaches and my lips clung to her skin. I felt her hands come clasp my shoulders with a passion, like mine, too long denied. "I thought we'd never get to the bedroom," I whispered.

She stood up for me, straight and proud while I unbuttoned her blouse and opened it to reveal her conical braless tits. They were small, pointed in brown and beautiful, the points already standing out to me in greeting. I covered one with my mouth, sucked till I felt her heart throbbing behind the tender firm cushion of tit, and then I switched to her other nipple, sucking it as well to quivering, thrusting erection. She wrapped her hands around my head and pulled me to her willing tits, feeding me on their pale contoured curves and brown caps. There was a gentle aroma to her flesh, heavy in the vale between her dainty tits, and I filled my nose with that scent as I filled my mouth with her jugs.

"Oh, don't stop!" she whispered, clutching me, and I didn't want to stop but I had to breathe, too, and reluctantly I forced my lips to abandon Angela's tits. I straightened up, helped her out of the blouse, and then my fingers flew to the waist-button of her skirt. It fell with a swish as I undid the button, and I ran my fingers up and down her smooth flanks, the cool chaste nylon of her white panties.

"Your skin feels warmer each time I touch it," I said in a moist, breathy tone, my fingertips dancing across the cunt-filled crotch piece of her panties.

"Then touch it," invited Angela. "Touch it again and again and again and – Oh, my God! Your hands, your hands, your hands!"

My hands, my hands, my hands were inside her panties by then, one of them stroking her ass in sexy circles, the other closing its fist like a hot, tight vise on the puffy, hair-covered bulge of her pussy. My fingers dug at the clinging slice of her cunt-lips. I felt them yield moistly. My finger lunged inside, lying full-length along her warm, slick gash. The base of my knuckles rubbed Angela's clit, found it stiff and obvious, and she gave a whimpering groan, slumping heavily against me.

"Bear up, Sister," I told her with a kiss. "We've only just begun!"

I laid her on the bed, tickling her butt so she'd lift it and enable me to remove her panties. Her shoes clumped to the floor, and she was naked – totally naked, totally desirable, curling and stretching an invitation to me.

"Come now," she gasped, her hands lifted towards me. "Come to me now!"

I wanted her. It had been too long. Too, too long! Quickly I stepped back, peeled off my sweater, dropped my jeans, and kicked off my shoes. That left me naked, too – as naked as Angela, and God, twice as horny! I threw myself onto the bed, rocking it, rocking her, and she rolled into my embrace with a wet, open mouth that sought mine hungrily. My tongue fucked her mouth and she sucked eagerly, and our crotches squirmed into oozing, passionate contact.

As we rolled and twisted, I slid my hand between her legs. They opened greedily, and her tight pussy swallowed the finger with which I tickled its wet lips. Into her pulsating snatch my finger darted, and each time I thrust deeply into her cunt, Angela went "Ohhhhhh!" into my kissing mouth. Her tits were very small but very hard, and their nipples scraped against me so hotly I thought – Jesus, I hoped – she'd set my flesh afire with the burning lust of her body.

I opened my own legs and pulled one of her thighs into the spread. She was beginning to perspire, the way she always did when she was sexed up, and her moist slim thigh rubbed frantically on my pussy, until I felt my head swelling, my heart ready to burst, and my cunt coming alive with a million kinds of arousal. I squeezed that thigh with my legs and she was strong and supple and incessant against my snatch, and in a moment or two my cunt juice was joining her sweat to make that thigh even greasier, even slicker, even more erotic where it strummed up and down upon my puffy gash.

"God, do it!" I cried, my fingers madly at work on Angela's pussy, one of them in her wet hole, the others squeezing and teasing the puffy, sex-swollen outer cunt-lips.

Delicious! Ah, God, I could taste her cunt on my lips already, and I knew that soon I must have my face between Angela's legs, my tongue lapping at her slice. She was a deep, deep pink in cuntal coloration, and when her snatch gleamed with the secretions of her inner juices as it must be gleaming now, thanks to the invasions of my stabbing finger there could be no more beautiful sight in creation.

She was wild and uncontrollable in my arms, her body hot and active in my embrace, and I wondered if she'd been anticipating this moment as much as I had. For days I'd thought of nothing else – only the delirious coming-together of me and Angela. But my dreams were nothing compared to the reality of it. The stimulating taste of her mouth, the erotic womanly fragrance of her body – they overwhelmed me as we writhed together on Angela's bed. They made me drunk with passion and desire and a frenzied, craving lust for her delights.

I opened my eyes and saw that hers, soft and very brown, were fixed upon my face. Our mouths parted, my hands began to wander up and down her lean, hungry frame as if they didn't know where to begin, and I heard Angela whisper my name.

"Marilyn, please do it for me."

And I needed no further invitation. The sound of my name on her sweet, thin lips was like a battle cry, a trumpet to arms. I touched her tits and she lay down obediently, her knees lifting into the air, and I angled my head downward.

My tongue lingered on her nipples, licking circles of love around the brown flowers of her tits, and then it was down her slim middle, into the patch of dark fluffy cunt hair that nestled between Angela's thighs. She was mousy brunette on top, and no matter how many times I suggested touching up the color, she only laughed. No matter. I loved her as much with mousy-brown hair as I would have if she'd been copper-red or platinum-blonde or even bald as Telly Savalas. But her cunt hair was rich, shimmering brown, very thick and curling across the white of her crotch, and I wished that I could run my fingers through that same lovely shade of hair on her head, too.

Even more lovely was what lay beneath that thicket of rich brown fur. I could smell its honeysuckle goodness as I moved my face nearer; my finger in Angela's cunt-hole had stimulated a tangy hot flow of juices which was already making beads of moisture glisten on her beaver. I wanted to slither my tongue into that sweet pit and lick up all her savory twat-cream, then lap her steaming gash into drenching me with another flow just as sweet, just as tangy, just as addictive.

"Yes, Marilyn," she warbled, "use your tongue. Lick me. Lick my pussy inside out. No one – no one does it the way you do!"

I pawed the lips of her cunt, parting the pussy fuzz to lay bare the delicious slice itself, and for a moment I stared at the dripping pink of her open cunt. The mouth of Angela's hole quivered and pulsated with expectations even before I thrust my tongue into it, and my own mouth was awash with frothy saliva. It was wonderful to stare at her cunt, to torture myself thrillingly with the withheld pleasure of tasting it. But when my tongue dared at last to slip into Angela's slit and my mouth inhaled the scent and flavor of her pussy – well, there was a throb of response in my own cunt and I broke into a shivering fit.

"There, Marilyn, there!" she called, reaching for my cunt as she spoke.

Her hands slipped into my crotch and, while one of them stroked up and down my inner thighs, the other made just like Little Jack Horner. Angela thrust up one thumb, ground its tip against my cunt, and gradually worked it into a sopping, itching hole that was more than ready to take her on.