King Coral - Honey Bare

“Oh,” she cried out. “Darling, darling-”

Fiercely she slammed herself against me, her arms lashing around my neck, her hips a blur of movement. But with the difference in our height she’d not accomplished what she’d hoped, and now, with her hot and eager mouth burning kisses against my face, she was using her arms clasped around my neck to pull her upwards.

Down below she was a flurry of erratic movements, banging herself against me and finding it useless. Then her legs twined around mine, holding tightly against me and she was completely off the floor.

“Please!” she wailed.-”Now!”

I dropped to my knees, holding her tightly in my arms so she wouldn’t fall backwards because her arms had suddenly released me. I tried to let her down gently, but she arched backwards and I heard the thump of the back of her head as it hit the rug.

She grabbed me again and then, while she was groaning and muttering unintelligibly, she zeroed in on the target, surging to meet me halfway. I lunged against her powerfully, and went all the way in.

We were glued together, mouth to mouth. I felt the spasmodic quivering of her stomach muscles, the heat becoming intense. Suddenly she erupted, becoming a squirming blur of pink lushness that I tried to hang onto, tried to control.

But it was useless because she was fired by hunger and passion.

And then I was caught up in her intensity, feeling the exquisite surges that buoyed me up and brought me down, each one more delightful than the last.

Suddenly there was a huge swirl of pinkness and a ringing in my ears as I hit the top of the swell and suddenly crashed down into a seething ocean of crushed strawberries.

Eventually I became aware of her labored sigh, hearing the breath gush through her teeth and feeling the pressure of her breasts against my chest.

“You’ll never know – how I needed that, Lincoln.” Her legs let me know that she wanted to get up.

“You’re quite a girl, Sarah.”

After I was on my feet, I bent forward. She extended her hand and I pulled her up. Her hand squeezed mine. “Thank you for that.” She glanced about, noting the pile of clothing and the room itself, as though she was getting oriented as to where we actually were.

She smiled at me. “At least we got inside the door.”

“Where it’s a lot dryer.” I could hear the water gushing off the eaves.

Her glance was moving down the front of me, wavered a moment before she brought it up again. “Now that I got you out of your wet clothes, I don’t know what to offer you to wear.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Quickly she stepped forward, grasping me tenderly and holding me for a second, her glance was on my face. “You’re too beautiful to wear clothes.”

“So we’ll be nudists.”

Her face brightened. “That would be fun. Could we have a drink, too, while we’re nudists? Or isn’t that allowed?”

She slipped her arms around my neck as she willowed in tightly, looking up at my face. I kissed her warm and seductive mouth and felt her respond down below-soft and delightful surge.

“Hot toddies are best on rainy nights.”

“Mmmm,” she said. “It sounds wonderful. But I can think of another thing best on rainy nights.”

“Do you know what old men say about it?”

“No,” she said, giving her shoulders a little shake so that her nipples tickled. “What do older men say?”

“Take it easy on Friday night – because it may be raining on Saturday night.”

“That’s because they can’t do it two nights in a row?” she asked impishly.

“Probably.”

“But you’re not an old man, Lincoln. I can vouch for that.”

“So we can have some hot toddies then.”

“All right.” As she brought her lips to mine she welded her soft warmth against the front of me. We went out to the kitchen and started fixing hot toddies only because she’d interrupted our kiss abruptly and moved away from me.

It had been a long time since I’d mixed hot toddies but I’d never mixed them while I was nude. And I’d never hoped to see the day when I could fix hot toddies while a voluptuous nude sat on the stool at the breakfast bar, chattering about the contract she’d signed, and how she was looking forward to going to Europe.

I brought the two steaming mugs over to the bar, put one in front of her, and then sat down on the other stool. “That’s right,” I said, “I just remembered you’re leaving in the morning.”

She took a careful sip, smacked her lips. “That’s delicious. Yes, I’ll be leaving in the morning.” Looking at me, she wrinkled her nose. “That means I won’t be here Saturday night. You know, like the older men think?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“You’ve got it made,” she said.

The phone rang and she stared at me, her eyes showing fear as she sat motionless and made no move to answer it.

“Want me to get it?” I asked.

She nodded, without saying a word. I followed the sound of the ringing and finally found the phone in the bedroom where she’d been packing.

“Hello,” I said.

No one answered. The line was open but I could hear no one on the other end.

“Hello,” I repeated.

There was still no answer: Only the click of the receiver as someone hung up at the other end. After I’d put the phone down I stood for several moments, looking down at it and at the mess of clothes on the bed. The sight of her nylons, bra, panties, and the two half-packed suitcases were stark proof that Sarah was leaving in the morning. Then I remembered what had sounded like the telephone ringing while we’d been on the floor. Now there was a caller who didn’t respond when I’d answered I couldn’t ignore it.

Contrary to what I’d believed at the very beginning, Sarah might have been telling the truth. To a certain point. Maybe she’d been bugged with anonymous phone calls but I doubted whether her life was really in danger. Not the way she’d reacted while we were getting out of our clothes.

As I turned away from the bed I caught sight of Sarah standing in the doorway.

Her hands were idly rubbing her stomach and I saw the shiver that rippled through her lovely nude body.

She said, “No one answered, did they?”

“No.”

I walked over to her and put my arms around her, feeling her resist initially; and then her arms were slipping around my neck, she snuggled against me and held on tightly.

“I’m afraid, Lincoln.”

“Come on,” I said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Her glance fixed on my face, her eyes showing her concern. Then the corners other mouth softened and her glance became tender. “Not while you’re with me – and holding me.”

My lips went to hers, finding her mouth unresponsive, the soft skin of her back cool to the touch of my hands. After I’d pulled my mouth away from hers I said, “Do you feel chilly?”

She nodded. “A little.”

“Why don’t you take a hot bath and then crawl into bed? Get a good night’s sleep.”

“I’ve got to finish packing.”

“We’ll do it in the morning. I’ll help you. Come on. A warm bath, and then to bed.”

“No,” she said.

“Yes, I insist.”

I felt the quick and urgent pressure of her hips against me. “Take a shower with me, Lincoln! I’ve never showered with a man. Will you do that?”

She was beginning to stir again, the restlessness becoming more pronounced as she began to rub her bareness against me.

I liked it. It was a much better reaction than she’d given me when we talked about the phone call/ “Let’s go,” I said. “Last one in is a dirty name.”

That made her laugh. “Oh, no,” she said. “We’re in this together. You promised.” She slipped out of my embrace, and then, hand in hand, we walked down the hallway and into the bathroom.