King Coral - Honey Bare

Bonnie hadn’t moved. Her hands were still resting on the flatness of her stomach. This time, when I rolled onto my left side, my hand reached out and went to the top button of her coolie blouse. Still no reaction from her. I opened the top button.

I moved onto the next one, the one after that; and a moment later I’d unbuttoned the front of the coolie blouse. I could see the dark strip of bare skin down the front of her; and then I flipped both sides apart, baring her from the waist to the chin.

Her breasts were dusky and the size of tea cups but they were poised defiantly, the dark-circled nipples like black ball bearings. She was beginning to breathe rapidly, her chest rising and falling spasmodically. The rest of her was still motionless.

Gently I placed the flatness of my right hand on the lower part of her rib cage, just below her breasts, wondering how she’d react to that. There was marked shuddering and her hands slid away from her stomach and dropped to her sides.

I slid my hand down the warm and soft flatness of• her stomach, until I’d reached the top of the capris that were snugged around her waist. As the side of my hand pressured against the tops, I saw her hand moved quickly at her side, followed by the purring sound of her zipper.

Now the tops of her capris were no longer snugged tightly around her waist.

She’d opened them up and there was a lot of room. A lot of room for my hand and I slid it down further, moving it under her waistband until I’d reached the soft and throbbing cushion.

I covered it, pressuring my hand and fingers against It. Then she turned onto her side so that she could face me. That put an end to my little project.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she asked softly.

“I thought it was,” I said.

“I’m glad.”

She got to her feet again in that same easy and fluid motion, shrugging out of the coolie blouse and letting it drop away from her shoulders. And then she’d hooked her thumbs into her waistband of her capris, and as she bent forward, she wriggled her hips as her hands shoved the capris down her long slender legs.

Abruptly she sat down on the rug, skinning the legs of the capris off. She pulled them free of her and tossed them aside. On her knees, she turned to look down at me, resembling the girl on her knees in the soft drink ad.

“Now you’ve started something,” she said throatily, “that I’ll have to finish.”

She was leaning over me, her hands loosening my tie, getting rid of it. Then she was moving swiftly down the front of my shirt, opening it up the way I’d opened up her coolie blouse. Except she had a lot of little extras. Like sliding her hands under the shirt and against my chest, rubbing my chest and nipples and letting her fingers tug and stroke my hair.

When she reached my waist, where the waistband of my slacks was snugged a little tight, I opened it up the way she’d helped me. A moment later one hand was inside, sliding down the front of me, the other one tugging at the tops of my slacks. I was up on my heels, lifting my butt off the rug so that the slacks and the rest of my clothing would slip off easily.

With both of her hands stroking and caressing the front of me, I kicked off my shoes, using my stocking feet to work the slacks down off my legs and feet.

Quickly I sat up and peeled off my socks, feeling the heat from the fireplace warming my chest.

“All right,” I said. “Now we’re on equal footing.”

She was giggling as my arms went around her bare back and pulled her down on top of me.

“You really swing,” she said, sliding across the top of me, her mouth settling onto mine.

It was heavenly, having her stretched out full length on top of me, her weight no more than a light blanket. Her hard and heated nipples were digging into my chest while her urgent tongue drilled repeatedly into my mouth. Down below I could feel her shoving and grinding herself against me and I was shifting and shoving right back, wanting to appease the hunger that throbbed within her.

Suddenly she ripped her mouth away from mine. With soft and passionate whimpering, her lips were at the sides of my neck, then my chest. Her tongue was a heated and moist feather that moved erratically across my chest and then traveled down my stomach.

I was trying to hold onto her, grasping at her arms and shoulders but she was damp and slippery as an eel as she continued to slither down the front of me.

“The rain,” she said urgently, and then I could here her panting. “It shouldn’t do this to me but it does. And I love it!”

I could feel the touch of her tongue and lips, along with the heat from the fireplace. It was burning my stomach and thighs and groin. And then it seemed as though the gas jet must have been turned up high because the lower part of me seared with the heat.

“Bonnie!” I said sharply. I was murmuring her name repeatedly because she was there and everywhere and she was bringing me more heat and delights than the fireplace.

“Bonnie!”

It came out very loudly because I couldn’t control myself and then I was fighting the ecstasy, but only for a few seconds, immediately giving in to it and finding that I was squirming across the rug’s softness, shoving myself towards her and the heat of the fireplace, and letting the heat and the touch of both envelop me and wrap me in their completeness.

There were a few jabs of pain at the back of my head where the headache had been before, but at the same time there were the jabs of exotic pain below, and I was completely overwhelmed by her smothering heat and voracious hunger.

Vaguely I heard the wind lashing the rain against the windows. I thought I felt the flames in the fireplace surge upward as though they meant to break out of their confines. Just as quickly there was glowing warmth and completeness. I was sinking down into the softness of the white rug and I was happy and contented that I’d started something that she’d had to finish.

It took us a while to cool off again but finally we were slipping into our clothes. Then, as before, we were sitting side by side on the huge bearskin. We sipped at the scotch, well watered because the ice had melted long ago.

“Well,” I said, “I’d better be going.”

“So glad you came,” she said.

I got to my feet. “Don’t get up. I can find my way out, if you’ll reveal where you put my trench coat.”

“It’s in my bedroom.”

I went in the same direction she’d gone when she’d taken it from me, and before long I’d located the bedroom. I picked my coat off the bed, tucked it under my arm, and came out again.

She was still stretched out on her back in front of the fireplace, smiling up at me. “You’re a doll, Lincoln.”

“Thanks. Take care, Bonnie.”

As I opened the apartment door I heard the doorbell ring. Framed in the doorway was the most exciting girl I’d ever seen.

She was as tall as Bonnie, slender and lithe, but the curves were more pronounced. She wasn’t wearing a raincoat. Just a pair of capris and a sweater.

Her breasts were proud and large, almost unbelievable. High-heeled pumps.

“Well, if It isn’t my little sister,” I heard Bonnie remarking behind me.

Bonnie continued, “Come in, Honey. Meet Lincoln.”

As Honey smiled at me and stepped into the apartment, Bonnie came to her feet.

“Lincoln, this is my sister, Honey.”

I closed apartment door and merely stared at her. She was running the fingertips of her right hand through the mass of long and straight honey-colored hair. With most of the weight on one slender leg, her hip was cocked provocatively.

She had some of the same humor of Bonnie lurking in the depths of her dark eyes but there the resemblance between the sisters ended. Honey’s breasts were exquisite, huge sculptured cones jammed inside the dark sweater.