Seymour Leggs - Tease Them With Ease

She was showing him her breasts, displaying them! And he could look! He knew he could, he didn't have to sneak a peek at the beauties as she bent over. Oh no, these were here for him to stare at, explore, wonder over. And they were well worth the sweat. They were full, ripe breasts like those on the women in the magazines, real big women's tits that hung slightly under their own weight.

His palms sweated they wanted to feel the boobs so bad. But Helen made no offer. Instead she hoisted her rear end up and reached underneath. Neil's pulse pounded like a kettle drum in his skull as she wiggled the bikini bottom off her legs. He saw the wisping hair of her crotch.

Curling, graceful hair reached high in a little pile where her legs joined together. A vivid V of white flesh cut from far below her navel down into the hair to disappear. She saw he was marveling over the contrast in her skin color.

"I was sunbathing in the nude when I heard Tina go in the pool," she said. "That's why I couldn't run right out and get her. I'm trying to get tan all over so when my bikini hikes up I don't look so funny."

Neil found his voice and was quite proud of what he said when he later remembered it: "I don't think there's anything funny about the way you look."

That really pleased her. She beamed and stretched languidly before him. Neil thought he was going to come. His body was pounding fiercely, his breathing came in short, erratic gasps, he was a wreck. Then she did it, she finally did the thing that made him almost pass out.

She reached her hand out and said, "Come here."

His legs wobbled, knees shook, and he stumbled as he managed to throw himself from the damned canvas chair. But the movement saved him. His eminent ejaculation was stalled and somehow he managed to reach the side of the chaise lounge and stand staring like a drunken idiot.

She swung her legs to the side and sat right in front of him. He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do a damned thing as she reached up and hooked her fingers inside his swim-team trunks. She tried to get them down but found great difficulty with his stiff spike refusing to cooperate.

Neil's flat, hard stomach trembled as she dug her fingers down the front of the trunks and touched the fire-hot cock head. He felt the stabbing reaction throughout his whole body and unintentionally his hips wrenched forward. She giggled and wrestled the swimsuit quickly down.

His cock was as special to Neil as every man's cock is to himself. But when he heard the thrilled sigh and a slight groan of Helen he knew he possessed a fine tool indeed. He had read that the average-length cock was six inches, so he'd measured his own. He had tipped the ruler at eight and a questionable quarter, but had always wondered if it meant much.

"Oh… Neil, you're beautiful," Helen sighed.

Neil felt ten stories tall. Then he felt her hand wrapping gently around the base of his throbbing shaft. Then the other hand above the first. She sat in front of him, holding his cock like a baseball bat and smiling. Neil had never had his cock held before by anyone, as a matter of fact he had never even had anyone compliment him on the size, the beauty of it before.

He was proud as hell, happy as could be, but the shaking wouldn't stop. Then she did it. Those lips of hers, those full, petulant lips puckered up and blew a cool shaft of air right onto his burning cock head. Neil looked down just in time to see her lean closer and place a tender, soft, almost maternal kiss right on the tip top of his cock.

His whole spine rocked and whipped, his hips jerked spasmodically forward, and his cock erupted. The perfectly balanced beauty of his purple-red, swollen cock head pumped a seemingly endless stream of white, sticky sperm with powerful gushing spurts right out at her.

Neil was embarrassed but there was nothing he could do. He was relieved to see she quickly moved her face away and saved herself from getting drenched. Instead she sat up even higher until her breasts were level with his pumping cock then mushed the ecstatic pole between them.

Neil felt the soft hug of her tender flesh as the big tits enveloped his crying pecker. He felt himself still shooting cream, this time spraying it into the white tissue and across the now bright-red nipples. But his embarrassment was gone, she seemed to be enjoying his premature ejaculation thoroughly.

She pulled slightly away and he heard the sticky separation between his stick and her soft breasts. But she just moved enough to give herself working room. Then she brushed the cream-coated breasts back and forth against his drained pecker, banging the large beauties against his stiff hardness. Each nipple was puckered up tight like a small button now, and the sperm smeared and spread into a fine, uniform film of wetness. The tits glowed like they were covered with suntan lotion.

She hummed. It was a happy, down-deep hum of great satisfaction as her hands slowly went behind him to cup each solid cheek of his ass and then press his now-still hips hard against her slick breasts. She rested her cheek against his firm stomach for several moments before moving.

She looked up, the deep eyes had him once more. "Lie down on the mat," she whispered.

"I'm sorry about what happened… " Neil mumbled.

She grinned and shrugged. "There's nothing to be sorry about, Neil. It was a compliment, a very nice thing, I'm just pleased that I was the cause," she said.

Suddenly Neil understood. So what? he thought to himself. I can do it again, I'm not all through, he decided. He felt a lot better and stepped back to the mat she indicated. He didn't know if he should lie on his stomach or back.

He had little time to wonder because she was right behind him and urged him onto his back with the gentle pressure of her caressing hands.

"Just lie back, and relax Neil. Let me show you how good it can feel," she whispered.

He did. Her hands didn't stop for one second. They brushed across the tightly muscled contours of his chest and arms before heading downward to the tautness of his stomach and sensitivity of his pubic patch. He felt the fingers coiling into his hair, then once again wrap around his cock.

"You haven't even gone soft," she remarked as her hands worked his cock back to the former heat.

Neil hardly heard her. He was washed into a state of complete putty in her hands. He never felt so good in his life, he couldn't believe it was happening. Here he was, flat on his back and naked, with Mrs. Thompson – Helen – a woman, a real married woman, stroking his cock. Boy!

Then her mouth was on his chest. She kissed each of his nipples and traveled her tender lips in a trail down the center of his chest and stomach right for his straining rod. Slowly, softly the lips moved closer and closer. His body trembled as each inch of flesh was tenderly kissed. But she stopped short of his throbbing muscle and lifted up.

Her leg, that beautiful leg, was straddling him. She was mounting him. He looked down and saw her cunt as she sat over his hips on her knees. The bright pink pussy lips hung down below her hair and glistened with wetness. She was turned on. She was wet and hot for him. Neil inhaled a deep breath and wished he knew what to do.

"Just lie still," she said. "You don't have to do a thing."

He wanted to tell her that was about the only thing he could do but words were the last thing his dry throat could have formed. He swallowed and stared at the rocking mountains of her huge breasts while she rocked forward. He felt her hand on his cock head again, this time she was maneuvering it into position, straight up, right under those slick lips.

Then she sat down on his stiff stick and Neil felt it. For the first time in his life he experienced the wonderful feel of a woman's wet, slick pussy walls enveloping his boiling cock. He could feel the flare of his cock head as it pressed her juicy tissues back and around, then he could feel the tissues merge around the hardness of his shaft to hug tight, squeeze, soothe his pulsating rod with gentle firmness.