Michael Jaeggers - Honeymoon hotel

Dick was grinding his teeth and grunting softly as he moved his penis up and down the length of her thighs. She could feel some moisture there; she wondered if he had 'cum'. He still was hard, still was moving… so obviously, she thought, he hadn't reached his climax. There was a moisture – a hot, slippery moisture – in her own vaginal split; the artesian springs of passion coming to life under his quivering rod.

"Sue… please! I want you. Let me." He continued to buffet her thighs with his prick.

I can't let you, she thought, incapable of speaking through her own longing. I can't stop you… I won't stop you if you really try. His huge rod now had slipped up to the top of her thighs and its head pressed and quivered against her hungrily throbbing cunt lips. She cried silently, "Oh, how I want you to make love to me. Do it now!"; nothing escaped her lips though except wild hoarse pantings of desire. For the first time in her life she felt as if something good was about to happen to her down there between her legs. Her heart rejoiced. There was no fear this time, as there had been in the past. No sudden withdrawal of her senses. If anything, her senses stayed right there and intensified. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. She wanted to cry out to him, "Take me… take me now, darling." When her fiancee began pushing her gently down toward the sand, she went willingly. Panting, she lay on her back, legs slightly spread, looking up unseeing at the starry sky and watching as Dick unfastened his trousers and dropped them. Then he was kneeling between her thighs, the heat of his bare hips and buttocks against her abdomen and legs.

"Be gentle," she moaned, as she felt the huge head of his prick pressing at the lips of her unprotected vagina. She lay there, the heat of the moment on her – wanting it beyond all other things, and ecstatically happy that the fright had finally left her.

Dick's tongue sought possession of her mouth, his weight descended upon her lower belly, and the first gentle probe of his cock slid lengthwise across her vaginal lips. She gave herself to the sensation; she could feel all reason leaving her body – replaced only by pure feeling. Dick lifted his buttocks back a bit in preparation for this first entry. The throbbing head of it touched her vaginal lips, pushed forward and separated the soft yielding pubic hair, and paused there beating, beating, beating. Now he withdrew the head, now he replaced it and this time pressed just a trifle deeper. Oh, God, she thought; it is so beautiful. She could feel her vaginal lubricant oozing around the head of his cock. Now she wanted it deeper. Instinctively, she had reached down there to caress his balls when – with a terrifying suddenness – the breathless moment was shattered by the loud shrill tweet of a police whistle blown only a few yards away. And the sound of it caused Sue's nerves to suddenly scream and react as though a stick of dynamite had exploded beneath her. Simultaneous with the whistle, which was the signal from the wagon driver that the evening was at an end, there was the sound of a giggle right above them, together with a muttered, "Ooops! Beg pardon." Sally and Harvey were laughing as they backed away after stumbling over them in the darkness. "Didn't mean to break in," Harvey's voice said, followed by Sally's hissed, "Shut up, Harvey."

Sue put her hands against Dick's chest and pushed him away. Frantically, she tugged at her skirt, attempting to pull it down and cover her naked loins. The beautiful moment had fled, and the way her nerves were screaming it was probable that it would not return for a long time… if ever. It was as though she were a child undergoing psychological conditioning: reach out for a pretty vase and receive a powerful electrical shock upon contact. Or an alcoholic reaching for a drink in an institution – a type of don't touch conditioning… brainwashing.

Her nerve endings were all jangling like a hundred alarm systems being shorted out at once. She wanted to scream. Just as devastating was the embarrassment and humiliation that she felt. God, how cheap and vulgar she must have looked there with her legs spread out like a wanton whore. She covered her eyes and began sobbing quietly.

Dick, though, was not about to give up that easily. When he sought to pull her skirt up again, she jackknifed her knees beneath him and twisted on her side. "Don't," she commanded, and it was an order not to be disobeyed. "I'm so embarrassed."

"God, we can't stop now," he groaned. "It doesn't matter if they saw us."

"It matters to me," and the sobs began coming more rapidly.

Dick angrily rolled over. "Oh, shit!" he said very loudly, and got to his feet, pulling up his trousers.

"I'm sorry," she weeped. "I can't help it."

"Come on," he said, and it was almost a snarl of contempt, "Get up."

Trembling, Sue stood and then feeling even more embarrassment, reached down and attempted to raise her panties; she heard them rip as her heel caught the elastic. Dick had his back to her. Why – oh why! – did everything go wrong all of a sudden. She had wanted him to make love to her – she needed to be made love to. He had even begun to make some penetration. And then that… that "damned" police whistle, together with Harvey's crude laughter and Sally's knowing eyes. Contritely, she completed her dressing, and then said quietly, "Dick."

He refused to answer.

She sniffed. "Dick… I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you acted like it," he mumbled.

"Well… I am."

"Okay," he said, his voice cold and distant, and not giving an inch. "You're sorry. I'm sorry. That doesn't make any difference to the condition I'm in right now – the same God-damned condition I've been in ever since I met you. Don't be surprised if you hear tomorrow morning that I was arrested for raping someone on the street."

Sue flared, "It's just as bad for me."

"I doubt it."

"What do you mean by that?" she commanded. "Forget it."

"No, I won't forget it. What did you mean?"

He turned finally and looked down at her. After a long moment, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed in exasperation. "You can turn it off. It's easy. Look at me, though. Just look!" He cupped his bulging trousers in one hand and clenched his fist tight around it. "What am I supposed to do with this? Christ! It hurts a man when he gets all set to make love and then nothing happens."

Sue's retort was cut off by the sound of the police whistle again. Someone shouted their names, "Hey Dick… Sue! Come on. Time to go!"

"Come on," Dick said, roughly grabbing her arm and leading the way toward the wagon. Sue followed him docilely; she was thinking of what he said – about it hurting a man when nothing happens and he's ready. Marylou apparently knew the solution to that problem this afternoon with Petey. And at that moment, Sue decided she would "relieve" Dick this way, if it would help him. He would have to make the first move, though; she couldn't bring herself to be that bold.

The ride back on the hay wagon was silent, and the atmosphere painfully strained between the two of them. He made no effort to kiss or hold her. When they got back to the ranch yard, he had assisted her down from the wagon and then opened the door to the right side of the car – an obvious invitation to sit on her own side of the car. Not one single word was spoken during the short journey home. When he pulled into the doorway, he kept the motor running while he escorted her to the door.

Sue's emotions were churning; she was torn between embarrassment, shame, and anger.

"Good night," he said, simply nodding his head, and again making no effort to kiss her.

All right, if that's the way you want to play it, to heck with you, Mister, Sue thought. She forced herself to smile, though, and said, "Good night, Dick." She put her key into the lock, entered without looking at him, and closed the door behind her. She stood there, heart pounding, with her back pressed tightly against the door, until she heard the roar of his engine and the screech of his tires as he angrily departed.