John Kellerman - Auntie with the hots

"Don't come yet," she begged, working her ass against the table until her flesh squeaked on the plastic surface.

"Uhhhh… Beth, with you moving like that…"

"I can't help it," she sobbed, her head spinning. She kicked her slender legs into the air, crossed them at the small of his back. She rubbed him with her heels then, pumping her ass like a wildcat on the examination table. His cocktip wasn't hurting so much now. It was stretching the tissues around her hole, pulling everything up and down the entire length of her slit. Her clit bulged out to rub against something. But with Phil's cock only a little ways inside her, his body was too far back to give the needed friction. Beth touched the hot little finger herself and felt the fresh surge of excitement as she rolled it down into its own juices.

Phil had her ass in his hands now, shoving in and out. But his cock could slide only a few inches. She was clasping him like a python! Her juicy insides squeezed with steady spasms at the first three inches of his prick.

"Beth! God!"

"Ghhhuuuhhh," she sighed, rubbing her clit wildly now. The sound of her juicy folds being masturbated added to everything else. She bucked suddenly. A jolt of pleasure shot through her. Then Phil was pulling back. Pulling his cock out of her. The head slipped from her opening and the muscles closed down. A hot line of cum streaked up along her belly and bathed the underside of one breast. She had her fingers around him then milking and jacking. Phil moaned, holding himself up on hands and knees as the white cream jetted from his cock. It splatted down over Beth's belly and chest until both her nipples resembled pink cherries tipped with white. Her climax still burned with excitement. She'd come, but not completely. She felt like she could make it get even itchier and more maddening.

"I couldn't do it inside you," Phil apologized. He looked worried. "This is bad enough." Beth wanted to say it wasn't quite good enough. She kept still instead.

After Phil had helped clean her up and held her dress for her, Beth turned to him and pushed her willowy body against his.

"I want more. I've got to have more!"

"Beth, for Christ's sake."

"Meet me somewhere. It'll work. You almost got it in this time."

"But I hurt you. I know I hurt you."

"I don't care." Yes, it had hurt. It'd hurt quite a bit. And even now Beth felt that perhaps she'd been torn a little down there. But it was exactly what she needed. To fuck. To fuck until all, the trash in her head was pushed away. She pressed her face against his bare chest. "Don't you understand?"

"I'm a married man," he went on. "With a successful practice. I can't risk everything like this."

Beth stepped back and looked at him. She didn't know what to say. So she stepped quickly past him to the door.

"Beth, wait!"

"Oh go fuck yourself with that damned metal thing you put in me!" she spit and then she was rushing through the waiting room. When the receptionist asked her if she wanted to make another appointment she didn't so much as look around. She made it to the lobby of the building before she broke down. A man emptying ash trays looked at her.

"Hey lady, you okay?"

"Just fine and dandy," she sobbed, hurrying through the doors. The heat of the day hit her and she leaned against the building for a moment before going on. She drove from the parking lot to a park nearby. The cool shade was better for her state of mind and she began to calm down. But her pussy ached for something more than Phil Barnaby had given her. Not something bigger. Just something better.

He was walking alone, a tennis racket swinging easily in his hand. He had on white shorts, white socks, white shoes. His chest was bare and he had a happy, carefree expression. His sandy red hair was mussed and damp-looking. Beth thought that he probably smelled sweaty and wonderful. He looked all of fifteen.

"Need a ride?" she called from her window. The warmth of the park rushed through the air-conditioned air that streamed steadily from the little vents on the Cadillac's dash. The boy had stopped and was staring at her. He looked confused. As if no one had ever asked him that question. And Beth guessed it was likely that no female ever had. He took the gleaming white car in and the expensive dress she had on. She let him see her hand, see the expensive ring Cal had given her some years before.

"Well, do you want a ride, or don't you?"

The boy shrugged. "Why not?" He jogged across the asphalt and got in. "Neat car," was his first comment.

"Do you know a good place to go?" She was trembling like she had in Phil's office. She pulled the shift down to drive and moved off slowly. The boy hadn't heard her. "I said do you know a good place to go?" This time her voice broke.

"I don't know. What do you mean?"

"I I mean. What I want is…" She stopped, bit her lip.

"Hey lady, there's a stop sign."

"Oh yes!" She braked, looked both ways, started off again. "Would you like to drive?"

He touched his sandy hair in an off-handed way.

"I don't have a license."

"I could say I'm teaching you," Beth went on. The boy smiled, shrugged again.

"Sure."

It was better sitting there and watching the country go by. After a few minutes Beth realized that the youngster was quite skilled at manipulating an automobile. And when she'd suggested he take it out in the country, the boy had seemed eager to do that very thing.

"I guess I was lonely," she said, starting the conversation again. The boy just smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. "I get lonely a lot. Do you ever get lonely?"

"Sometimes."

"I'll bet you've got lots of girl friends."

"Not so many."

"If I was a girl your age, I'd want you for a boy friend," she said. Beth clenched her teeth. She had to take it easy. She was going to scare the poor kid off. She found herself staring at his crotch. The tight tennis shorts didn't leave much to the imagination. He had nice, muscular thighs that were covered with reddish blond curls.

They passed a sign at the entrance to the national forest.

"How far do you want me to drive?" he asked.

"This is fine. Why don't you take the next exit."

The car moved up the two-lane blacktop. There was a turn off ahead. Beth remembered picnicking there with Cal years before. She pointed it out to the youngster behind the wheel and he slowed obediently and guided the big car down into the tall pines. She had him park by the very last picnic table. Through the windows they could hear the stream tumbling over rocks. Beth reached over to turn off the engine.

"What's your name?" she asked, breathless from wanting him.

"Ronald. Most people call me Ron."

Beth wanted to say something but she couldn't think of how to begin. Finally she put a hand out and caressed the side of Ron's face. He stared at her, swallowed hard.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Sure. You smell good too." He reddened a little after this admission. Beth felt flushed too. How could she just come out and ask for it? How?

"Ron. Have you ever…" She cleared her throat. "Have you ever done it with a girl?"

"No ma'am." He looked scared.

"Would you like to do it to me?"

"Y-Y-Yes ma'am." He swallowed again. Beth put her cool fingers on his thigh and moved them up. Then she was undoing his shorts. The boy watched without touching her at all. She made him sit tip in the seat a little so she could work the white material under his ass. The sight of his jockstrap excited her past reason. Those little straps, that hot little bag all stretched out with young, warm cock.

A car came down the road and stopped at the far end of the campground. A man of about sixty got out and pulled on some rubber boots that reached to his waist.

"Don't worry," Beth soothed, petting the elastic bag of his jock. "He's just a fisherman."