Barbara Skinner - Lust is a many splendored thing

Then, he was fully within her, their pubic hair curled together, his balls shifting against the center base of her full ass. She bucked her hips up against his, tightening her cunny around his glutting prick, feeling is head rubbing against her deep within. She kissed at his face and neck, breathing raggedly as her body was engulfed with carnal heat, her mind blurring with her joyous ascent.

He slid his hands through the softness of her hair, his weight on his elbows as he began to rotate his hips, churning his pole within the tightening and loosening of her vaginal muscles, her wet cleave sliding around the stretched flesh of his trunk. Electric static clothed his fevered flesh, the throbbing of his cock now a pounding that echoed through him, his mind filled with he quickened beat of his heart. He kissed her face, shoving his chest back and forth over the bright pink of her nipples' tips.

She kissed him back, her face flushed, her heels rubbing down against the tops of his buttocks, her hands ripping his tightened shoulders.

She groaned again, her orgasms mounting, the sound a strained rasp as it worked itself free of her constricted throat. She squirmed and twisted up against him, her clit blazing against the side to side movement of his shaft, her box quaking around his now thrusting prod.

She had lost all sense of time or place, her mind spinning faster and faster, her depths contracting and expanding faster and faster.

His balls were strained with the excitement of his come, wave after wave of pleasure wearing down the dams. Her cunt tugged tightly along his shaft, beckoning his spend, urging it to break free, and it suddenly did. He groaned, his body bowing tensely, his mind flashing with ecstasy.

She cried out, the spasming of his cock within her feverish cunt, and against her pearl, escalating her orgasmic rush toward her own climax.

He shook against her, his strained face lifted, and his gizzum was blasting through him, gushing into his jerking rod. His groan broke off, his breath catching as he came. She shook against him, their bodies locked together as his juices erupted, hosing up into her vibrating recesses.

His lips pulled from his teeth, his face lined as his release soared toward its culmination, their hips shaking together as the flow of his come began to slacken. All thoughts were lost in the wake of their climax, euphoria engulfing them.

Gasping, they went limp in one another's arms, his cock spurting out the last of his spend. They rolled onto their sides, unable to gather the energy for movement, much less words.

Gradually, their eyes opened, and they smiled drunkenly at one another before kissing, the movements of their tongues deep and slow. His cock slipped from her, still large though now limp, the mixture of their juices gleaming from it. They caressed one another, and he moved his fingertips gently over her clit, Erin moaning softly around his tongue.

His prod beginning to stiffen again, he moved his kisses down from her breasts, and along her belly as he shifted his body around. She indented her full lower lip with her teeth as his lips moved down toward her damp triangle, and her hands tightened against him, her eyes almost fearful as she looked at his big cock, his head only a few inches from her face.

"Ben…?" she asked in the beseeching whisper, and he looked up into her pleading eyes.

He stared into her dark blue eyes for long moments, and then exhaled deeply with a weary nod. He turned back around, Erin resting her head on his chest as they stretched out together, neither of them saying anything. After a time, they cleaned up, and went in to have dinner, Ben relaxing.

Later, after she had fallen asleep beside him, and the next morning at work, Ben continued to think about their lovemaking. It was terrific with Erin, but there was something missing. He knew that it was not a matter of her not wanting to try other things, to ball other than in the standard missionary position, to engage in oral sex, and other activities, but that her heavily puritanical upbringing had left her with a mental block.

As in the past, Ben felt bad about his dissatisfaction, but it was not unlike having only the first, or the first two courses of a three course meal. No matter how delicious the food, nor how satisfying and filling, there remained the knowledge that there was one, or two more courses, and that the satisfaction was being restricted. Ben frowned, feeling uncomfortable with the analogy, even though he thought of the three course meal as being one he wanted to feast upon with Erin.

"Mr. Harvey?" a youthful voice caressed, and he blinked clear of his thoughts to see the high school girl that was working as a clerical replacement, on vacation. "I need your signature on this," she said, her big, violet eyes staring into his.

"Uh, yes," he nodded, looking down from the Alice in Wonderland innocence of her face, her honeyblond hair hanging straight to her slender waist. "Here you go, Amy," he nodded, and she slowly turned away.

Aware that the girl, at least, had a crush on him, he watched her skirt shifting over the full domes of her pert ass. He glanced down at his slacks, noting his hardened cock's obviousness, and frowned. He did not want to get involved with a high school freshman, to cheat on Erin, but the temptation had been there.

He took out his wallet, and withdrew a folded ad that he had run across and torn out, telling himself that he would throw it away, that he was simply curious. The ad read:

Inter-personal problems relating to sex?

We specialize in therapy for women.

Satisfaction guaranteed.

Contact J amp; C ROAM and a phone number followed.

He and Erin had talked about the possibility of consulting before, but both wanted to avoid the suggestion of mental problems that going to either a psychiatrist or to a psychologist might have presented. There did not seem to be that risk with the ad, and it had been running regularly for several months, which suggested that they were not some fly by night outfit, and that they must be having some success.

It was late in the afternoon before Ben had fully talked himself into calling, and then he used a phone booth to insure privacy.

"J. and C. Rome," a man's voice answered, strong but easygoing.

"Uh, I saw your ad…?" Ben began, feeling awkward, and uncertain about what to say. "My name's B-" he started to say.

"Yes, what seems to be the difficulty you're experiencing?" the man asked, cutting him off. "We'd prefer not to have your name until such time as you may decide to avail yourself of our services," the man explained. "That way, if you decide not to utilize our help, you've retained your privacy."

"Yeah, okay," Ben said, relaxing a little. "Well, you see, my wife and I have got a really great relationship, and… and balling's great," he said, feeling able to loosen up since the man did not know who he was, and could not even see him. "The problem is that she was raised to think that there's only straight fucking with the man on top, and no other ways, no… no sixtynining, or anything else," he finished, out of wind, but feeling better.

"How does she feel?" the man asked. "Is she repulsed by the idea of, say, oral sex? Or is it something she is unable to allow herself to do?"

"Yeah, that," Ben said. "We've talked, and she wants to try other things, but…"

"Well, this sounds like a rather common, and easily taken care of problem," the man said thoughtfully.

"You've had luck with this kind of thing before, then?"

"Luck?" the man chuckled. "No, not luck, but success with our forms of therapy. As a matter of fact, we're completing a program today with a woman whose problems were not too dissimilar from your wife's," the man smiled, leaning back in his highbacked, leather upholstered desk chair.