Unknown - Bea_s pony

If that was all he wanted, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, I concluded. The thought of the pudgy little man's body lying on top of me was another matter entirely. I don't know what made me do it, the beer or the room or watching Hack Raver that morning, but I reached out and took the gown.

My next thought was where to get undressed. Was he going to stand there and watch me, I wondered?

He walked over to the same closet and began undressing himself, facing the inside of the closet. Something about his matter of fact way of taking his clothes off set me wild.

I took my loafers off with my feet, unhooked my skirt and zipped it down. It fell and I stepped out of it. I noticed he hadn't turned around. He had taken his pants off and was carefully hanging them up.

Unbuttoning my blouse, I removed it and went to work on the bra, turning my back on him in the process. The bra off, I noticed the nipples and surrounding area had turned rock hard, I rubbed hard at them in an effort to relax them, but the rubbing only seemed to make them worse.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he was entirely naked. He must have been wearing something before to hold in his stomach for now the belly on him seemed enormous. He was reaching for a robe.

I got out of my panties as fast as I could and I noticed they were wet down there. Some of it had dried already. Pulling the gown down over me, I got up on the bed and hid my eyes with my forearm, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

I could hear him moving softly around the room, and thought I heard the lid to a jar being screwed off. The suspense was getting to me, and I had to reach down and touch myself.

His weight on the bed made it creak. He moved my legs a little farther apart as he shifted himself into position.

"This is going to feel cool at first," he said. Instinctively I removed my arm and look down. He held a jar of cream or something in one hand, and with the other was evidently preparing to gunk me up with whatever it was.

He slapped the stuff on gently and began working it in. It was cold at first application, but slowly began to heat up until the whole area there glowed. It had a faint fruity odor.

Suddenly, he grabbed me by both hips, and I felt his mouth close over me violently. His head was nodding like a nanny goat as he ran his lips and tongue up and down the gash. He was salivating like crazy, and I thought it was going to be more than I could stand.

I began to shriek and grabbed at his hair, thinking I was actually going to pull some of it out. I tried to roll over on each side and close my legs, but he was too strong.

He had managed to work my clitoris out and was sucking on it, pushing his face back and forth into the rest of it. I was screaming now and dug my heels into his waist, kicking at him for all I was worth.

Changing tactics again, he shoved his tongue into my vagina and began a vigorous in-and-out thrusting, his nose pushing at my clitoris. He had extremely well-developed tongue muscles.

Feeling myself reaching an orgasm, I knew it was going to be a shattering one. I was clutching his head tightly now, my heels braced against his hips. My back began to arch involuntarily as my body tensed. My mouth gaped wide, and I lost the power to focus my eyes.

It came with a rush.

Great undulating waves of warmth flowed through me. One, two, three, four… five… six. The intervals lengthened. If the feeling would only persist indefinitely. I ran my fingers through his hair.

He was sucking now, sucking deep draughts, long and slow. There wasn't going to be anything left of me, I thought. When he was done, he lay his head on my thigh and gasped for each breath, his face a raw-looking red.

As the hot blood began to flow back into my vulva it tingled. I wondered what he was going to do. If he had wanted intercourse, I would have let him do it. It didn't matter now. Not many men had ever brought me to such a climax.

He sat up quietly. "I want you to know I loved your cunt," he said, still breathing hard. He put a hand on my leg. "I want you to come back. Please. Will you promise to come back sometime? And your sister. I'll eat you both. Anytime you feel you're ready for Joe Cunningham."

I told him I would be happy to return. The pudgy man looked almost pathetic standing there in the robe. I asked him if he didn't like it the regular way.

"My only scene," he said, shaking his head. "My only scene is eating pussy. I was kicked by a horse years ago and it left me impotent. There's not much else I can do."

"How did the horse kick you?" I asked him.

"Next time you visit perhaps I'll tell you," he said. "Don't tell many people that story." He bent over the bed and kissed me lightly on the vulva. "I'll leave you now. Hope you like the pony." He opened the doors and went out.

I dressed quickly. Helen was waiting for me at the car with Hack Raver.

"You look happy," she commented. "Want to tell me about it?"

I glanced at Hack and blushed. "Later, Sis."

We got into the car. Helen gave the pony a pat and waved at Hack. "So long, Texas," she called out.

"You ladies know I'm always at your service." He was grinning widely and fingering at his groin.

On the way home we chatted very little. Helen was obviously happy with her adventure. I was pleased as well. The old sadness that sometimes lurked in the background seemed far away.

We pulled into the drive and walked up to the door.

"That's funny," Helen said. "I don't hear Clyde."

"Maybe he's asleep," I suggested.

She unlocked the door and went inside. I watched her go from room to room, even checking the basement. It didn't seem possible he could have gotten out. She gave up and slowly walked back into the living room. I was afraid she was going to cry.

"He's gone, Bea. Clyde's gone." She shook her head slowly from side to side. "Where?"

It was in the middle of the day. I was seated at a vanity in Helen's bedroom brushing my hair. I hadn't had a good chance to brush it out since arriving, and the brisk strokes tugging at my scalp felt good.

My hair was longer than it had been in years, the thick brown tresses reaching down to just below my shoulder blades. It seemed like an awful lot of hair as I watched it move with my head in the mirror. I picked the mass up with both hands and held it atop my head for an instant.

The tap-tap-tap of the hooves on the kitchen floor downstairs interrupted my thoughts. The pony had made himself quite at home. So far there had been no "accidents", but the novelty of having a horse-like creature roaming at will throughout the house was something I had not yet gotten used to.

Helen was still upset about Clyde. We still hadn't figured out how he had gotten out of the house. He was adept at pushing doors open that were not quite tightly shut, but all of the doors leading to the outside were found locked when Helen checked them.

Because of the air conditioning, all the windows were closed, but one basement window we had found unlocked and very easy to push outward. The window was a good six feet from the floor, however, and it seemed doubtful that Clyde could have both scaled the wall and pushed open the window. Still, he was gone.

Helen had reported him missing to the police shortly after we had arrived home, and all morning had been on the telephone checking with the pounds in the metropolitan area. She had also alerted local kennels and pet shops to be on the lookout in case the person taking Clyde tried to sell him.

She was being very thorough. I had heard her calling in ads to the Lost and Found sections of newspapers, and talking to medical school people on the hunch they were buying animals for student dissection.

"It's not going to be easy to hide a tricolored collie. They're the rare ones," she had pointed out to me. "Well, maybe not as rare as the Morrells," the thought occurred to her, "but certainly not an everyday breed." She had been moved to tears periodically. "Where can he be?" she had kept asking me.