Jason Cannon - Marcy in heat

"Jesus… I don't even know you," Marcy said. "Does it matter now?" he asked, standing by the bed and removing his clothes. His cock was hard again and it looked even bigger and thicker than Marcy had remembered.

"No," she said, smiling, "I guess it doesn't."

He began undressing her, kissing each part of her body as he bared it. Finally, when she was entirely nude and lying on the bed, he showered her body with kisses, lingering especially on her breasts and stomach. He slid his tongue all over her body, kissing and nibbling as he traveled. She couldn't wait for him to get to her clitoris.

"Down there! Please, down there!" she pleaded. He followed her instructions immediately. His tongue moved up and down her cuntal slit. She could hear and feel him sucking in her juices. He was getting closer and closer to her most sensitive spat and she moved to bring it closer to his expert tongue. Then he pressed directly on it, the pleasure forcing her body into an involuntary spasm. She couldn't believe anything could feel that good.

He kept up a steady, slow rhythm which made the sensation increasingly pleasurable. Each time his tongue pressed on her clit it was better. Marcy could feel her legs beginning to shake and her whole body squirming. She spread her legs as far as they would go and luxuriated in the magic sensations.

She could hear herself moaning uncontrollably. It was time. She was getting there. She thought her head was about to explode.

But just as she was about to be rocketed into ecstasy, he stopped. He lay on top of her and kissed her on the ear and neck, and as his lips moved over her face, she could feel his thick, hard cock slipping between her wet vaginal lips. He pressed further and further into her until his entire hot penis was inside her. She loved the feeling of him so close and inside. Then he began the exciting, rhythmic pumping. His cock moved in and out of her, producing even more intense sensations than before.

Her heels beat a soft tattoo of encouragement on the small of his back and his ass. She flexed her hips, rocking on her ass, and her full thighs gripped his waist.

She began to rotate her hips and it was as though a hot internal tongue were circling round and round his tightly gripped cock. Waves of muscle contractions rippled up and down the length of his shaft, and he could feel her hard clit, raking across the base. Her face was a mask of pleasure. Pleasure seemed to radiate from the very center of her soul.

Marcy was loving it, loving every inch of his pounding cock. She whispered in his ear. "Fuck me with it! Hurt me if you can. Tear my pussy apart with your cock!"

His hips drew back, drawing his cock from her cunt until only the head nestled lovingly between her lips. Then she, pulled on his buttocks with her hands and drove him back into her.

Vibrating quivers of inner spasms bathed his cock in gripping flesh as she came the first time and continued the writhing and bucking of her hips. She groaned her pleasure and let it spread across her face.

He plunged his cock in and out of her, springing clear from his toes to drive it deeper and deeper.

His body threw itself into a pumping galloping fuck that incited his cock to an even greater effort.

She circled his outer ear with her wet tongue and then plunged it into the ear with a warm wetness.

And then he hissed out his excitement as he felt the molten cum surge from his balls.

She sensed it and reached below her upraised ass to cup his twitching, spuming balls as they pumped her full of cum. With a gentle pressure she nudged them and he continued to come in waves of gushing sperm.

"Yes, yes," she moaned, "fill my cunt with your hot juice!"

She reached her own peak again as the last of his cum poured into her belly. She wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him to keep pumping until she could came again.

"Yes, yes… just a little longer, baby… just a little longer," she urged.

She pumped against him until a tiny scream erupted from her throat. "Oh, lover, yes… yes… I'm there!"

For long moments she was in complete rapture, totally consumed with pleasure.

They kissed, their hands wandering over the rippling skin of each other's bodies. As they fell into a deep sleep, the sun was just starting to break over the horizon.

Marcy awoke with a start. The phone was ringing right in her ear.

"Hello?" she said around the thick cottony wad in her mouth.

"Will you be staying over?" said the voice.

"What… where… oh," she said, at last realizing where she was. "No… no, we won't."

She replaced the receiver and rolled back over to wake him. He wasn't there. She looked up. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. She looked around the room. She was alone.

She looked for his clothes. They were gone. Slowly, a fear started crawling up her spine. She jumped out of bed and crossed to where her bag sat on the little aluminum cloth stand.

It was gone.

There was more than fear in her eyes and she grabbed her purse off the bureau and emptied it out on the bed. She tore at her wallet until she had it open.

It was empty.

Marcy walked a few steps between each car before turning and sticking out her thumb again. Three cars had already stopped, all men, but she had decided, after looking them over, to wait.

She thought about the previous night and for the one hundredth time that day, cursed bath her bad luck and her stupidity. He was good and the sex she had gotten from him was some of the best she'd ever experienced. But no sex was worth six hundred dollars and all her clothes.

"The son-of-a-bitch," she murmured aloud, "the least he could have done was leave me enough for breakfast." Her belly was rumbling, her head ached, and her feet were tired. She vowed never to trust anyone again and to never allow herself to be put in a position where any man could get the best of her.

A car pulled up beside her. She turned to see two young boys. The one nearest her rolled down the window.

"Tired of walkin', beautiful?" he said.

It was obvious that they were younger than she, high school students, probably. That they were younger made them less intimidating. It was even possible, though, that she was more sexually experienced than they.

"Hello," she answered with a smile.

"Where are you going?" the one closest to her asked.

"Just walking."

"Want a ride?"

"Maybe so," she said.

"Don't worry, baby, we know how to show a girl a good time. Come on over here."

She hesitated, not sure whether to comply.

"Come on," the driver urged. He seemed to be even younger than his friend. "Let's get to know each other."

She was ready to get into the car. Then the driver made a comment that stopped her. It was the same comment that she had heard from two of the other drivers that had pulled over to pick her up. "If you're worded, baby, we can afford it," he said.

"Yeah," his friend piped in, "we got ten bucks apiece."

That did it. She might be alone, broke and hitchhiking on the road. But if she was going to fuck, it was going to be for fun, not for money. Of that she was determined. If she became a prostitute and took money, then she would in truth become what her mother said all girls who enjoyed sex were… common whores.

To become a whore wasn't what she had run away for. She wanted to be free to do what she wanted, when she wanted to do it.

"No thanks," she said, and started to walk again. The car moved along beside her. "What's the matter, honey? Our money not good enough for you?"

"That's not it," she said, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

"Bullshit… you ain't out here hitchin' because you want a ride."

"You think you're worth more than any other hooker around here, baby?"

The car got closer and closer to her leg. She continued to walk. She knew they were insulted by her rejection and she could also sense that they were getting angrier by the minute. Finally, she stopped and whirled on them.