Ned Samuels - Hand maid

He finally managed to push his cock just up her thighs and into her slit. "Oh, baby," she cooed, "that's the way to do it." She pushed her bazoo against his and could feel his hot breath cover her lips with passion. "Come on, fuck me. Stick that giant inside of me all the way."

"You sure you can take it," he said by way of a challenge, partially just to get her wrath up a bit, and bring the feverish pitch to a nice climax.

"Fuck me,fuck me!" she whispered but with incredible intensity as her teeth were clenched and her shoulders pushed upward in desperation.

She looked at a certain glow over his face, created by the moon, and the wind, and the general quality of the air, which gave him a sort of eerie quality, but still highly sexual.

She heard some rustling over by John, and kept quiet, because the way Vern imagined it, she couldn't be sure if the stud would take it the wrong way. After all, he was fitting them with gear, footing the bill, and certainly didn't go to all the trouble to be kept out of the hot action he all but anticipated. But Veronica wanted this young buck for herself the first time, to have nothing divert her attention from his huge cock, the sensation of having it slide into her, first slowly, and then very, very quickly.

"Come on, stick it in me now, stick it in all the way."

"You'll get yours."

"I want it now."

"You want it now, do you? You want my cock, okay bitch, you got it," he said, whispering the last words for emphasis.

"Quick, stick it in."

With that encouragement, Buck was able to slide his cock in, first slowly, and then with a violent thrust until he was all the way in.

"Oooh," she moaned out. She could not believe how full she felt. In actuality, Veronica had pushed that carrot inside her womanhood all the way, and was experiencing very close to the sensation she imagined would be created by Buck's cock. The situation was intensified somehow by being surrounded and tightly bundled by the covers, her body kept prisoner by the material, yet her mind not wishing for freedom in any sense of the word.

"You mother fucker," she said.

"I know you like my cock, don't you."

"I like it okay, but more than that, I want you to come inside and then make me come at the same time."

Ordinarily, the excitement of having anything so huge inside would have made her come too soon, thus mitigating the possibility of simultaneous coming, but there was something about Buck which aided her self control, and allowed her to maximize the experience. Sure, he was such a figment of the imagination, but his mere specter was enough, the mere concept of the man, could keep her at a feverish pitch.

Whence came such feelings? From what pool of passion could such endless desires spring? From an overactive clit, a veritable unconscious filled with latent incestuous desires or a sense of impending doom which dictates epicurean delight, before the deluge, like some antediluvian impulse to self-preservation?

It mattered not, and such thoughts did not even pass through Veronica's mind. For she was too filled with more immediate concerns – the sensation of that thick cock, the concept of a pair of balls almost splitting from the pressure of their hot heavy contents, the physical sensations created by being bundled so tightly, like two sardines in a can, ready to be temptingly tasted.

She could smell Buck all the more poignantly, that mixture of sperm, tobacco, and sweat which characterized the most manly of men; he had it all.

She even felt the thick, incarnation of his flesh and blood pulsing against her own, and the coarse texture of his pubic hairs. Veronica imagined desperately trying to get down and feel his pubics, all scratch along his belly, or feel his upper legs, hips, and most of all balls, but she could not even move her arms without first splitting the bag (she would have gladly done this, but for the strength required and the possibility of wakening the others).

Buck started to really get down to pumping, somehow turning on top of Veronica and pushing his hips up and down. The scene must have looked odd to anyone looking down from one of the trees: four sleeping bags in the camp, one empty, inconspicuously pulled away from the fire, two filled, occupied by innocent sleeping types, one a girl, the other an older man; and finally the sight of this big, thick bag with the movement of a live worm, squirming, turning and twisting, quietly pumping away, far from the glowing fire, yet visible in the moonlight.

Impending disaster? Violence from a jealous boy, a mean man, liberated under a refreshing uninhibited natural setting? Not at all. Veronica was the director of this scene, and she wouldn't knock anyone off if she didn't want to, that is. Sure, if she found one of the studs talking a little mean, there was nothing to stop her from getting a little heavy, without fear of consequences: another dividend of the vivid masturbator.

"Come on, give me all you've got."

Buck didn't need much encouragement, for he knew they were minutes, perhaps seconds away from the big moment.

It all started to come together for her now – the great lay with John in the car, the fantastic young high school stud in the shed and in her parents bed, John and the party, with Monty and with Bernice and Lu, and now this, Buck and Maggie, waiting in her own bed. She'd had a taste of everything, young and old, straight and kinky, hetero and bi, the best of all worlds, pulling together, making her come like mad, and all thanks to that one little electric dildo and a stimulated imagination.

Come on Buck, she thought, make me come like mad. Make me want to pull this fucking sack apart, go wild on me like a wild animal. He was weighty, yet possessing a marvelous buoyancy, and a volatility which preserved her own relatively delicate form. She could feel their hips melt together as he pushed, pumped and grinded his way to ecstasy. Faster and harder he pushed, then in one great effort, he pushed his hands on her big boobs, which were almost cemented in place from the pressure of the straining material of the bag.

"Oh, that's it, squeeze those tits."

"You like that, I know you like to have your big, fat tits squeezed."

She liked to hear him talking dirty like that, especially enjoyed his abandonment of all the civilities he courted during his working day when he watched for their safety and guided them to whatever part of the wilderness they wanted to enter.

Now he was as wild as that wilderness, as uninhibited and ruthless anything in the environment.

Harder and faster he pumped, until he could see it was a little painful for Vern, but she didn't mind, and neither did he. They began to be ruthless, hardly caring if they woke the others, for nothing must stand in the way of their obsessional cravings. Then, in a sudden burst of energy, the stud's body tightened, and he paused as if frozen in space. His eyes rolled back a little into his head, his face became dangerously flushed, and every muscle in his body seemed to freeze simultaneously, waiting, imperiously, with a frozen, steely posture, as he gathered every ounce of energistic resource. Then it came (he came) in a wild, incredible moment, his body spewing forth, unloading the heavy contents from his balls right into the womanly receptacle, filling her with the pleasure of his syrupy sacks. "Ooh," he moaned out, almost crazy with satisfied desire.

Veronica went through the same sensations – or at least the female counterpart – as her body went into spasms of delight, each one more intensive than the last, more lasting and melting and fabulous. "Aggghh," she ejaculated, tightening her cute little buns, feeling her nipples getting even harder under the onslaught of the pleasure.

When it was over, they felt locked into each other, and only able to recover by breathing deeply and letting their minds go completely blank. Actually, they had covered some ground. Their movements alone had taken their sleeping bags the full ten feet between the fire and the edge of the wood, so that when they looked up, they saw they were nestled against the side of a mighty oak, its own shaft rising proudly for scores of feet above them. The rest of the trees were pine so that the ground was filled with a matting of needles, browned and decayed just enough to ensure slight softness, perfect for nature fucking.