Brad Harris - Warming up for brother

"You're teasing me!" she accused as he continued to laugh at her. He laughed, bouncing her up and down on his cock while he cupped and fondled her tits. "You stop teasing! Why, Roger? Why did you think I'd be a good fuck?"

He pulled her head down to him and rolled from side to side, hugging her with amused affection. His cock began shuddering inside her, driving her cunt into deeper spasms of delight.

"The way you walked," he finally confessed. "I watched the way you swung your ass. I saw the way you stuck your ass and tits out for approval. You're a little girl who likes her body, who likes the feel of her body. You like the way your body works. Fucking is part of the way a body works. So I figured you'd be just, as good a fuck as you were pretty to look at."

He pulled her tits back to his mouth. His beard tickled her sensitive breasts. He rubbed his hair over the nipples, driving the girl into a twisting frenzy atop him. She began rubbing her tits in his face as roughly, as tauntingly as she could. Cammy gasped deeply as he caught a tit in his mouth and sucked stronger than she'd ever been sucked before. She felt, for a moment, as though she would be drawn into his mouth by the suction.

"Ooooooeeee!" she squealed, shuddering over the now driving cock. "Oooooh, I like it! I love it! Fuck me, Roger! You've got me going wild. Fuck me! Ooooooeeee!"

His prick seemed about to launch her into the air as it drove upward into her. She hung on while he hunched them both into the air above the bed. Roger was gasping and panting as frantically as she. He wasn't laughing now. He was fucking with seriousness. He moaned and gasped, shuddering beneath her as his cock rammed deep into her.

"Ahhhhh!" he panted. "Ahhh! Man, you've worked me up! Damn, but I'm ready to blow in you!"

"Yesssss!" she moaned. "Yesssss! Fuck me, Roger! Let me feel all your cum blowing through me!"

He unloaded his giant wad. She felt the spurting, gushing jizz erupt from his prick. She felt it slash through her, triggering her own orgasm. She rode him wildly, happily, ecstatically through joy. She as still riding him as he finally began to cease his mad hunching. She settled softly over the shriveling cock and leaned over to kiss him.

"Mmmm," she sighed, "that was good!" She wanted to thank him for restoring her desire for fucking. She wanted to tell him about the boys yesterday. She smiled into his twinkling blue eyes. No need to. Roger was sensitive, sensitive like an artist should be. He had sensed her need for a fun fuck. He had seen it on her face and answered her needs. She kissed him again and patted his huge ass.

"You'll have to come back again," he told her as they dressed. "You'll have to come back when my wife is here."

"Your wife!" Cammy asked in surprise.

"I'm sure she'd enjoy you as much as I. We can have an evening threesome. Sound like fun?"

Cammy stared a moment, then laughed with dm. Maybe that would be fun. Roger wanted to be sure she didn't think the fuck was anything more than a casual moment of pleasure. He mentioned his wife to be sure she understood. She might surprise him, though he just might accept his offer some afternoon.

"Ooooooeeee!" Cammy shrieked in pleasure. Her body throbbed and pulsed madly, ecstatically. Pierre was better than she had hoped. She looked up at the delighted expression on his face. She lay back and let his plunging cock ignite a million tiny fires in her pussy. "Ooooo, I like it! I like it! Fuck me, Pierre! Fuck me, you damn Cajun!"

She needed the fuck. Cammy needed the hot cock in her for more reason than just her determined attempts to get the reluctant Cajun in her pussy. She had to forget about Yvonne. At least for the, moment she needed to forget about Gilbert and Yvonne. She knew too much. She wasn't able to face her brother, yet, not with what she suspected about his wife.

"God!" Pierre panted above her. "God, what a wild little ass you throw at a man!" She was throwing an awful lot of her ass into the fuck. She was swinging her saucy rump like crazy as he fucked her. She was letting her teasing, taunting rotations increase the pressure between Pierre's cock and her cunt. She shimmered and shuddered in total rapture as she urged him on toward his maddening climax.

Cammy had been stunned at Roger's remark as they walked back to Jackson Square after the session in his apartment. The mammoth man with his glowing red beard had put a beefy arm around her shoulder as they walked, attracting smiles from any number of his buddies as they passed them. Cammy cuddled sweetly against the huge, solid body and played her part all the way. She knew she was being watched. She knew every one of the men was wondering how good she was in the hay. The beaming face on the big artist gave them a clear hint. Still, she knew they were wondering, wondering and wishing.

A dazzling young blonde woman came out of the door to the Pontalba Apartments. Cammy watched her walk toward them. Class! The broad had total class! Her lovely body moved with liquid grace, accented by the softly clinging fabric of her light dress. The blonde looked up as she passed Cammy and Roger and smiled warmly. The little brunette heard the artist grunt in recognition of the girl as she swept past them, leaving a scent of exotic perfume in her wake.

Cammy could feel the deep laughter inside Roger. The heavy man shook softly against her. He tightened his hold around her shoulder as though a sudden thought increased his affection for her.

"Some VIP is about to get a little pussy," he whispered.

"What?" she asked looking up into his twinkling blue eyes. He laughed at her innocence and squeezed her closer.

"Laura," he said, motioning his head toward the blonde who was getting into a waiting Mercedes. "She's one of the governor's girls. The state keeps several girls available for important visitors to the city. Laura's one of the best."

"Prostitute?" Cammy asked, looking back again at the glow of blonde hair in the big car as it pulled away from the curb.

"Hello, no!" Roger muttered. "Just state hostesses. Sure they give a good fuck, but no one calls them prostitutes. They aren't paid by the men who fuck them. They get money on the side from the state. They supposedly work in some office, but you know they could never afford these apartments on a stenographer's salary."

"They all live in the Pontalba?" Cammy asked, her curiosity going crazy.

"Most of them. Actually, there are never more than one or two at a time. When they need more girls, like they will this week with the prime minister's visit, they call on some of their retired girls to help out."

"Old women?" the girl asked. Roger began to laugh in his full, robust manner. His eyes sparkled in his amusement with her. Cammy pouted a moment, resenting being made to feel like such a little county fool. "No, no," he told her. "No girl ever works for more than a couple of years. Then they take their accumulated savings and buy some business, or put their husband in some business. They settled back and live an easy sheet the rest of their lives."

Cammy walked along in silence. She stepped for a moment with him at his display. She tried to gather her courage. She had to know. She just had to.

"They always use blondes?" she asked hesitantly. That wasn't the question she wanted to ask but it was the closest she could bring herself to articulate.

"Blondes?" Roger asked, his attention diverted by two young tourist women in slacks and halters who were walking past them. "Oh, you mean the girls like Laura. No, not always blondes. Hell, the best-looking girl they ever had was a brunette. Cajun girl, I think. Slender brunette, she was, with the best pair of knockers you ever imagined. Damn, she was a sexy piece of tail!"

He had answered her question. Cammy told him good-bye and walked slowly toward the coffee shop where Yvonne would have been waiting for the last fifteen minutes. She didn't want to see her sister-in-law just now. She knew Roger had described Yvonne. She also knew the business that occasionally brought Gilbert's wife into New Orleans.