Ann Griffin - Skin summer

There were bound to be a number of swinging chicks spending the summer here, away from civilization (the hottest place around was Tannersburg which had a population of two thousand) – and horny as hell. He was going to play as many of them as he could find and bend into the semi-slavish status he enjoyed with women. So now he must start conserving his juice.

Although it was difficult. Linda stirred him terribly as she pumped her mouth on his rod, faster and faster until every inch of his big organ was tingling mercilessly. He watched her eating him, then said, "Come on. You can do better than that."

She whimpered, then took the hairy sac between his legs and fondled the rocks inside while her mouth continued wetting the big penis. Her face was wild now, her hair in chaotic disarray, her own saliva over her chin and cheeks as she slobbered over his meat.

He drove his hips at her, trying to sock the organ down her throat. At last, when he felt the steaming of come in the base of his rod, he withdrew from her mouth and breathed deeply a moment until he knew he was safe from ejaculation.

"What do you want now, Sam?" she asked. She straddled him, a knee on each side of his chest.

He looked up at the knockers that hung over him like small mountains, ran his hands from them, down over her smooth belly, then grabbed her hips and rolled her sideways, moved on top of her. He took her right nipple into his mouth and sucked on it with greedy enthusiasm, squeezing the resilient flesh with both hands. When he left it for the other nipple, it stood ridiculously high and hard. Then he went down her body, kissing and licking her tan flesh, rustled his face in her bush, then spread her legs and brought the wet lips of her cunt into view.

He teased her with his fingers until she was writhing on the bed, making little noises deep in her throat and fighting for breath. Then he found her slit with his tongue and tasted her love box honey, nibbled gently at the button of her clit.

"My God, my God…" she sighed, arching her back, pushing the hot mouth of her love hole into his face.

He grabbed her round, taut buttocks in both hands and drew her up so that he could lick more deeply. He knew she exploded when her cunt walls convulsed, squeezed gently at his probing tongue. But he didn't stop there. He tongued her further, more thoroughly than even before, until he had brought her back to the brink of a second orgasm. He stopped then, came up to face her, dipped his fingers into the open Vaseline jar on the headboard, coated his prick to the base.

"Ask me," he said to her, looking into her face, keeping his eyes on hers.

She swallowed and clutched at him.

"Come on," he prodded. "Ask me now."

She closed her eyes and said, "Fuck me, Sam. Please fuck me. Ram your cock into me, Sam."

"With your eyes open," he said.

She opened her eyes, her face flushed red.

"Come on," he said.

"Fuck me."

"More," he said, not taking his eyes from hers. "I want to hear more than that."

"I love your prick," she said. "Put your lovely Goddamned prick in me. Please, fuck me, Sam."

He smiled, moved between her legs, and touched the tip of his burning organ to her wet slit. He hesitated only a moment, then drove it home, up to the balls, shivering with pleasure as the warm, sucking walls of her box slung to it and drew upon it with a thousand mouths.

She jerked upon the bed, threw both lovely legs around his back, strained to bring him even more deeply into the channel of her being. He probed her, slamming his organ in and out, faster and faster, keeping it against the top of her love tunnel to give her the greatest sensations possible.

"It's coming out my mouth," she said, clutching him. "Oh, Sam, it's so damned good. So fucking big."

"Fucking big," he agreed, somewhat breathless himself now.

"Here it comes," she said, wriggling, pounding, bouncing beneath him. "Oh, squirt now, Sam. Squirt me full. Come with me."

He clung to her, knowing he would have to come. This had been too good. If he didn't let go tonight, he would have blue balls for at least a day, aching cords and sac that would be a nuisance. But he didn't want to let it go this way.

Linda came, gurgling unintelligibly in her throat. When it was over for her, Sam withdrew his prick, straddled her, and nudged it against her lips once more.

"It's not clean," she said.

"Come on," he prodded.

"It's got my pussy on it – and your come."

"I haven't come yet," he said, thickly.

"You're not going to squirt in my mouth, are you? I don't like that. You know I don't."

"Suck it, damn you!" he shouted, ramming the blunt end of his big tool against her lips. It slid across her face, lubricated by her juices.

She opened her mouth and took him in, made a face at the taste of her cunt fluids and the Vaseline that remained. He was over her now, and he slammed his prick into her as if he were plunging her vagina. His balls slapped against her chin, adding to the wild sensations building hotly in his groin. Then, abruptly, the thick cream surged up his staff, burning through the tubes. She felt the surge and tried to pull away, but he grabbed her head and held her mouth on his penis, jetting the sweet load of his balls into her throat. He continued to pump until the last dribbles of fluid had been drained out of him and until his organ had become limp and useless.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said, still with the taste of his load in her mouth.

"You're hung up, baby," he said. "You won't grow a mustache or get a deep voice just because you ate me."

He stood and gathered his clothes, began dressing. She watched him from where she lay in the rumpled sheets. At last, when he was tightening his belt, she asked, "Will you be back tomorrow?"

He came to her and took a tuft of pubic hairs between his teeth, chewed them, then looked up at her. "Of course, lover. You're too good to avoid, you know."

"Do you mean that, Sam?" she asked, sitting up. When he nodded, she said, "I'm so glad! You're so good, and I want to please you as much as I can. You make me come three and four times. No man ever did that before. I want to keep you as long as I can."

He leaned forward and kissed her, holding her breasts in his hands, thumbing the nipples. When he pulled back, he said, "I'd like to stay. You know that. But tomorrow's the first day with the kids here, and we're going to need our energies."

"I know," she said.

He stood and left her there, closing the door to her cabin and walking down the trail between the pines to his own place. He chuckled as he walked. He had told Linda they must save their energies, and that was most certainly true. But while she would be saving them for the work of running the camp, he would be storing his own up for the little rich bitches of fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen years that would come through the main gates tomorrow.

The first two days were not as Sam Walker had expected. For one thing, he was run ragged with work until he felt that the spiel Mrs. Worley had given about the "easiness" of the job was a load of crap. He toyed with the idea of quitting, but fought the impulse. Things had to get better, he assured himself at night, just before he would drift into the soundest sleep of his life.

Finally, on the third day, things did get better. When he reported to Linda, she had only one piece of business for him. A fuse needed changing in one of the cabins, and he could do that at his leisure. Linda was still so busy that she did not even think to ask him over for a tumble that night. She flitted about her office with terrible efficiency, and he felt relieved when he got out.

Thus far, he had seen several likely prospects among the girls who had arrived three days earlier, though he had not been able to contact them, to hustle them. Now, he could begin to start the serious business, begin to pick up the extra change he expected.