Carl Ross - Hot lips secretary

But she wasn't ready for that. She wanted to bring him right to the edge and then stop. Since she knew he was close, that's just what she did.

She stopped completely… like a ship dead in the water.

She kept his cock deeply imbedded in her cunt, but all of the delicious movements and erotic grindings and firm massages were stifled.

He pleaded with her to keep going, but she knew what she was doing. She'd watched Viola do it, and was there when the guy next door finally got his rocks off. It was so hard and so violent that she realized the finesse it took to play a hot cock and bring out everything it had to offer.

Even Freddie didn't know how good the bottom line would be when she made him hold off and keep getting higher and higher.

She sat there for a while, just idly touching his loins, without moving her ass at all or flexing her cunt muscles. When she felt that Freddie had eased off, and his libido had backed down from its speeding drive, she started rocking once more, but in a very quiet, tentative way.

Her fingers played over the soft hair on his chest, strayed to his nipples made them stand up and tingle – hard and erect – then brushed over his upper arms and across his cheeks. All the time she was tantalizing and teasing him with sensuous, wavy flicks of her tongue as she smiled down on him.

He watched her tongue flit out of her mouth, just waving in the air, and he wanted to feel it flying over his flesh. He strained to shove his cock farther up into her, and his whole body ached with delicious yearning.

God, he thought, what a hot young pussy she is! She knows all the things that turn me on, but that don't get rue quite all the way off!

Gloria got hot just thinking about what she was doing to him, her prisoner there beneath her, and she went on taking him up and up to the heights.

This time she was going to make him go for the moon.

She reached around behind her as she rocked and let her fingers wander down over his balls. She caressed them tenderly, softly rolling them between her fingers.

The way she did it made Freddie squirm and twist and moan with delight. "Fuck me, baby!" he pleaded. "Move your ass around, like you did before. Please, get me off, baby. I'm burning up, for Chrissake!"

She smiled softly to herself as she watched the burning need in him grow and grow. It thrilled her to sense the power she held over Freddie. It made her cunt ache and get very, very wet as she swiveled her pussy slowly around on his hard prick.

Gloria kept him in that lingering, yearning state for quite some time, playing with his lustful desires, toying with his desperate longing to be released and to shower her with his hot, thick cum.

He grew more restless, more strident in his pleas, more hungry with each passing moment.

All the time both of them got hotter and hotter, each in their own way – Freddie because the soft, pink walls of Gloria's cunt were driving him mad, and Gloria because she had known the sweet, blissful experience of orgasm and was getting her kicks now from the sheer feeling of power that she held over him. She was teasing him, squeezing every ounce of passion from him without satisfying that thirsty, hungry, starving need.

It was an old story. The lust for power, they sometimes call it. Whether it was in politics, or sex, or anything else, it held people in its spell… and Gloria was feeling its spine-tingling effects at this moment.

Even the thrill of power however, must eventually be overshadowed by the loin-wrenching, all consuming enormity of coming. And Gloria succumbed at last.

She felt Freddie's stomach shaking with such hard, muscle-twisting, convulsive spasms that she was carried away herself in a whirlpool of delight. Her cunt began to respond to his urgent desires. It churned with a hot, wet craving, and not even her strong sense of holding him in her clutches could subdue the urge within her to get off.

"Oh, Gloria," he cried. "I'm almost… almost… theeeerrre! I'm commmming!"

Freddie's cock unloosed a wad of cum that would have drowned an elephant. It poured into her ready and willing twat, glazing her loins with a beautiful, wet, glistening film that set her on fire.

As soon as she felt it hit her, she was in its grip. It was like a firing pin on a cannon. It turned on every muscle, every thought, every desire that burned in her soul. It made her body a puppet being moved by the strings of his sensuality. It consumed her in a blaze of passion that tore at her core and sent her pussy into gyrations that racked her from head to toe.

Her body shook and her groin trembled and she began to pour out love-juice in such enormous gobs that she would have drowned his prick had it had a nose to breathe.

It cascaded from her in a swirling, foaming stream and flowed swiftly down over Freddie's cock and saturated his balls.

Yet he still shot cum into her, his whole body twitching and jerking under the tremendous pressure of his orgasm. He fucked and fucked and she pivoted and writhed on his hard, straining cock as she came.

It was a fantastic, fitting climax to a night of untamed lust.

And it had been a great finale for Susan, too.

She came out of her reverie, and wrote a letter to Aunt Sanders, a teen advice columnist for an underground newspaper that the kids all read on the sly. It read: "Dear Aunt Sanders: In oral sex, is it all right to swallow the come on the first date? My girlfriend says I could get pregnant this way, but I know she's wrong. All I want to know is whether it's impolite, or if a boy will think I'm too easy."

Susan liked to read Aunt Sanders' column. The paper it appeared in was quite explicit, to say the least, in its editorial content. Aunt Sanders often answered teenage queries with very strong four-letter words. It wasn't the kind of newspaper delivered to the average, middle-class family in the neighborhood. Some of the kids at school read it more avidly than anything in the school library.

Susan's dearest hope was that Aunt Sanders would tell her that swallowing conic on the first date was not a breach of dating etiquette.

Susan certainly enjoyed watching her brother and his girlfriend suck and fuck their heads off, but she spent the next several days anxiously awaiting the new edition of the underground newspaper that carried Aunt Sanders' column. She tried to concentrate on her school work, and had long conversations with her friend, Nancy Brewer, but still nagging all the time in the back of her mind was what Ronnie Ferguson would think of her for swallowing his cum on the first date.

As a matter of fact, he didn't even call her, or pay any attention to her since that night. Her fears of being too easy might have some foundation, she thought. If he still cared anything about her, why didn't he call? It must be that, like all boys, once they have gone all the way with a girl, and have made their conquest, they lose interest.

She became more convinced than ever that she should not have even let him come in her mouth and that she should not have swallowed the cum. Then maybe he would be back for more of the same.

The day the paper was supposed to come out, Susan was on pins and needles. She couldn't wait for the day to end at school so she could pick up a copy.

When she finally got to the newsstand, there it was, right on top of the rack, where it always was. On the cover that week was a big photo of a girl dressed like a farmer's daughter, her blouse ripped off, her short shorts torn up the side. Her tits were falling out, and she was sprawled in the hay, a heavy-hung teenage stud towering over her, ready to shove the meat to her.

The headline said: "What It's Like to Be Plowed in a Hayloft… Teen Queen Tells All."

Susan didn't bother reading the lead story. She skimmed through the paper quickly, frantically looking for Aunt Sanders' column. When she found it, she felt her heart leap. Her letter was the first one.