Jon Reskind - Sir Launcelot volume 1

She felt his hand trail over the softness of her belly… down the strong muscle of her hip and thigh, then over slowly to her mound… through the light patch of dark, pubic hair to the very lips of her… her cunt, taunting, feeling, tracing the thin hair-lined slit… then, slipping inside with breathtaking gentleness to find her clitoris throbbing gently in erotic delight.

She clasped her lips to his, open, and her tiny tongue shot into his mouth with all of the fire of a taunted, enraged snake. Again and again, she stabbed into his mouth while he sucked at her tiny, sweet tongue and simultaneously twitted her clitoris between thumb and forefinger… finally sliding down through her moist slit to her vaginal entrance and easing inside, teasing her urethra enroute before he buried the long finger up into the depths of her excited and hot, dilating pussy.

She gasped into his mouth and he knew he was going to fuck her! He was certain of that now! And… and holy Christ… she had wrapped her fingers around his prick through his clothes. He couldn't breathe!

"Damn!" he gasped and pressed her backwards to the couch while she struggled to keep her thighs together as they folded down onto it.

"Oh… oh, darling… darling… we mustn't. No… no… not now," she pleaded raspily, his hot breath suddenly against the soft flesh of her breasts, coming in ever increasing gasps. "Oh… oh, please, darling… we mustn't," she whimpered hotly down into his face that was kissing and sucking at her breasts, while her arms embraced his head tightly to her.

But it was as if she hadn't spoken and his hands continued to fondle and graze her tingling flesh, and she gasped aloud to the electric-like sensations surging through her from his probing finger deep inside her wanting vagina, causing her to writhe feverishly beneath his hand.

"Oh… oh please, Jamey… wait… wait," she begged, but then she heard the metallic whisper of his zipper… and suddenly felt the delicious hard, hot fleshy bluntness pressing against her upper thigh. Dear God! It was his penis and inherently, her body recoiled at its alien touch, even as his finger probed deeper between her legs into the warm, veloutinous moisture of her vagina, causing greater intoxicating waves of inner excitement to surge through her, nearly rendering her powerless. She lay as if mesmerized, physically entranced by the pleasurable sensations rippling about wildly inside her… and then he'd taken her hand and placed it on his naked hardened rod, his own hand covering hers and enclosing her fingers around it.

She had compulsively squeezed tight, feeling its hot rigidness give slightly beneath the pressure, and heard and felt him gasp excitedly against her breast, the sounds of her own breathing filling the room as she realized surprisingly, the enormity of its size. An anticipating thrill of delight raced through her. She would never have dreamed that he would be so big… so long and thick… her fingers could barely encircle it! And suddenly, she was aware that she was stroking it… massaging the thick outer layer of skin back and forth to the same rhythm he had established with his finger deep inside her moist, receptive channel.

Oh… oh… there was no stopping him now! She'd let him go… even encouraged him beyond that final stopping point… and now her whole body trembled passionately, hungrily, in the enchantment of the moment, as did his, pressed tightly against her and in her hand. She squirmed blissfully beneath his finger sinking ever deeper into her cunt, so moist from the juices he had stimulated there. She felt it seeping from her vaginal lips, moistening her entire crotch, even to the cleft between her round full buttocks; and then it dawned fully upon her what they were doing… that Nadine could walk in on them… that there'd never been any other man to have her except her dead husband… that it was all wrong… all wrong! But, she didn't care didn't care… didn't care!

His prick jerked in her hand at every stroke, and as he increased his maddening, pleasure-inciting thrust up into her, so did she quicken and lengthen the pumping of her small, slender hand clutching tightly at his throbbing, erect shaft of flesh, feeling it grow and grow beautifully into unbelievable male hardness.

Perhaps it was his sudden squirming on top of her, trying to open her legs, that helped restore her wits, or maybe it was simply the reaction of strong religious convictions and loyalty to a memory thrusting its way through the ecstatic delirium of forbidden pleasure clouding her mind; whichever, she clamped her strong naked legs together tightly, her thighs clasping his stiff, pulsing cock between them, while he struggled frantically on top of her to get the blood-filled tip of his prick into the moist opening of her excited and passion dilated cunt.

"No… no, Jamey! No, we can't… we mustn't!" she hissed up at him, her teeth clenched as she writhed and struggled with every ounce of resistance she could muster, clasping his hot, hard rod tightly as it strained to enter her, its smooth nozzle splaying the soft lips of her throbbing cunt, inching ever forward from the weight and force of his near-insane attempt at penetration. "My God, no! You can't, darling… please!" she cried again, as she squeezed and writhed furiously; then, she felt it lurch, still within her clutching fingers and heard his uncontrollable gasp of frustrated ecstasy.

He groaned and grunted and she felt the thick, hot stream of his sperm shoot from its jerking head, saturating her tingling vulva, the palpitating open lips of her vagina and the surrounding dark pubic hair, until she was drenched with the warm, viscous liquid, even to the inner-sides of her soft white thighs, dribbling wetly down between her legs to moisten the davenport beneath her passion-dampened buttocks.

She had lain perfectly still and held him tightly all through it, feeling his body convulse on top of her while his organ pumped spasmodically in her slender hand, heard him emit his final groan of release… then, he seemed to collapse all over her, his penis rapidly growing limp in her hand, and it was then that she sensed an indescribable feeling of having cheated herself… yet, she said nothing, only held him, running her hand tenderly through his hair while he began to whisper apologies in a choked, almost shamed voice…

Nadine rolled onto her back, opened her eyes and gazed at the white ceiling. She waited until the tiny zigzagging plaster-cracks focused distinctly; finally, she looked at the small watch on her wrist. Nine-thirty! She gave a start, then remembered that it was Saturday… no school, and lay back quietly, letting all things fit into their proper perspective. A thousand thoughts raced through her young mind. One of them was Jamey Halo. She liked to think of him as he appeared on TV… as Brace Collins in the Sunday night Gallant Rangers series. God, he was handsome; he just made her tingle all over every time he looked at her, was all. Yet, she couldn't help but hate him, too. He must know how she felt about him… how she had felt about him ever since the day she'd first seen him when they'd moved onto his estate… but he'd never given her a tumble… hardly any acknowledgment whatever except an occasional little wink… Damn him! He was just a conceited ass the big star… but just wait.

One day, she, too, would be a star in her own right, then, he could just get in line with the others. She'd bet he would sing a different tune then… because Nadine Sheldon was going to become a great star… just like she was going to win the Miss Parksburg contest Monday night. Now that Ann Trent had decided not to enter, she felt certain of her chances. Ann had been her biggest worry; the judges always seemed to be partial toward blondes over brunettes, and Ann was absolutely beautiful. If only she had a little more of her mother's face and statuesque figure, Nadine wished longingly, not that she wasn't thankful for what her mom called 'voluptuousness', with her firm, erect and rotund breasts, waspish waist and full rounded hips, and she was well aware of her lush and shapely thighs and legs, but if only they were longer like her mother's. It seemed that men always preferred taller girls. At least, she did have her beautiful mother's smooth, white skin, and just a touch of her exotic, dark eyes, but her own long, black-hair lacked that silken, fairy-tale woven luster of her mom's. God, if she didn't love her so much, she'd probably be hatefully jealous. Her mom was so beautiful.