Arthur Alexander - Emily_s Lips

"Tastes good, doesn't it?"

Her heart had leaped with fear. She had forgotten the woman. Now the other stood over her with a knowing smile upon her face. "You like y our own cunt, don't you."

And to dissemble would be foolish. "Yes," she answered in a quavering voice.

"Taste it again," came the command. She obeyed, with eyes downcast.

"What's it taste like?" I don't know.

"Like honey, doesn't it?"

"I… I guess so."

"Shall I taste it for you?"

"No!" But what would have happened if she had? Emily's masturbation grew more frantic as she imagined what might have happened. It was a picture, simply, without story line, of that red-haired cunt and its flowing juices pressed against her, of fingers and even tongues in her own slit.

But the woman had smiled and said instead, "You were watching me, weren't you?"

"Well, I… "

"Weren't you?"

"Yes."

"It excited you."

"Well, yes."

"Show me what you did to yourself."

"I couldn't, I… "

"Show me!"

And still with downcast eyes, miserable Emily had been forced to beat off for the woman, to run her hands down into her heavy muff and open her lips so the woman could see her fingers dancing over her clit. But as she masturbated, she grew more excited. She knew that she was arousing the woman again, for the latter stood and massaged her own breasts as she told Emily what to do with her fingers. The woman towered over her, into the sun, as Emily beat her furry snatch against her masturbating fingers. Emily's enormous breasts had swung so mightily inside her shirt that its buttons had worked open,.and her quivering mounds had emerged partially, pushing themselves erotically against the material, bursting to be in view.

And then the woman had slid one hand down inside the top of her skirt and cupped her own cunt. Emily could see the hand against her skirt, and the knowledge that the woman was about to come herself tripped Emily over her own peak.

And back in the bedroom, she was growing closer to that same orgasm. Her breath was coming in short gasps. Her tits were joggling across her chest. Her hands were buried in the tightly splayed cunt gash hauling her panties frenziedly against her clit.

She had watched a woman masturbating in the woods once, but the rest was pure imagination. She loved to enhance that story. Sometimes the woman masturbated for her. Sometimes there was a man also, and he beat his great cock off all over her body. She came frequently as his imaginary drops of sperm burned upon her writhing flesh. Sometimes even the woman and the man would masturbate for each other, watching each other's avid fingers, racing to come.

And that was like what had happened one day as she lay upon the waterbed at home with her fingers flickering over her cunt. At the very moment of purest ecstasy, Arthur had walked in. He had been shocked, furious, his puritanical upbringing outraged, but she had been unable to stop. She had lain there in an agony of coming, horrified that he should have discovered her, and yet so totally wound into her impending climax that her hands continued to sing their song upon her clit. She had lifted her head to look at him, her neck straining, her face and breasts flushed with pleasure, her juices so runny they squished loudly with each inward plunge of her hand, and she had watched his expres sion change from one of horror to one of lust.

A wash of gratification had swept across her as she saw his eyes dimming and his face slackening with need. She knew then how the heavy smell of her musky cunt was arousing him, how the sight of an uptilted and eager cunt being beaten off by slender, come-dripping fingers was making his cock stiff in his pants. She could see the bulge rising, stirring to see her masturbating her cunt.

And so she had slowed down, deliberately making a show of the self-pleasuring. She parted her legs to give him a long view of the hairy snatch she knew he loved so well. She let him watch as she curled one long finger down through the matted, wet hair which crowned her wide and prominent cunt, down around her plump, stiff little clit, down through the red and sticky inner lips, down until it dipped, fingernail first, and then joint after joint up, up, up into her burning hot hole. Her other fingers were stiffly spread against her soaking pussy, only the middle finger having disappeared into her hairy lips. Arthur had been hypnotized by the sight of her finger slowly masturbating in and out, glimmering with her thick juices, and he had slowly opened his pants until his thick, red erection had sprung out into view. His eyes never left her cunt, and his fingers slowly closed around his cock. And then he came forward to kneel before her like a supplicant, kneel before the altar of her cunt.

And so she had performed the ritual for him, singing in her heart to know that she might thus excite him. Her finger came slowly from her dripping hole to caress her clit in small circles. Her other hand rose to squeeze her shuddering breasts, to pummel them until they were red with blood, to pinch her nipples until her cunt made her head spin with its need for a vast come. And all the while, Arthur looked on with no expression save that of lust, his mind paralyzed, and his fingers active.

And as she began to come, as she knew that the control was going, she slid her legs together and flung her hands against her clit. The orgasm was sweeping over her, her entire body quivering, as she heard from far, far away Arthur's voice chanting to her. "Come, Emily. Come now. Make it come. Make it come. Make it come." And it was upon her, and she vanished for a long, shuddering second, and she beard a lurching grunt as she began to slide back down into life. Before her eyes, the tip of Arthur's cock •erupted in huge, long, white streamers of sperm, blasting high into the air over her still trembling body. She felt them splashing hotly across her belly and tits to run in burning rivers across her flesh and down onto the bedspread. As the pulses began to die and the last come to dribble out and down across her husband's fingers, Emily smoothed the warm come across her stomach and spread it to coat her breasts.

Emily shuddered through her orgasm on the chair before the fire. Gradually, she relaxed. Her thighs fell open again. Her hands trailed of their own weight across her thighs and hung downward toward the floor. Her eyes were still s hut, but they were quiet now. She had come.

But Arthur had been ashamed and disgusted by his lust, and they had never repeated that wonderful performance. Too bad, she thought, as her hands again rose to her cunt. She had enjoyed that more even than anything else, except perhaps his mouth on her pussy. Slowly, she pulled the stretched and drenched panties away from her slit. She raised them to her face and breathed deeply of the odor of her cunt. Using one hand to smear the thick cream across her nose and mouth and eyes, she masturbated herself to another climax.

She stood then, naked, and noticed that the fire had burned down. She dropped another log or two into place. The flames leaped up, and she caressed herself standing before their heat. Sweat was glistening on her heaving body now, and she smoothed her hands ecstatically across her billowing flesh. The smell of her armpits aroused her, and she thrust her nose as close to one as she could so as not to miss any of the fragrance. The wet and sumptuous hairs which nestled there like a small cunt were suffused with the scent. She drew some sweat up with a finger and licked it off with her long tongue. She opened her cunt lips to the flame and allowed the heat to play upon her stretched clit. And she beat herself off yet again, nearly collapsing off her tottering legs as she came for the third time.

She was in an agony of self-pleasure. She couldn't stop. She made herself come again. She needed something in her cunt, something hard up her cunt, and yet there was nothing. Her fingers were too short to reach all the way up. She stuck them into her asshole, but it wasn't enough. She tore at her nipples, bit them, bruised them with her teeth. Her cunt was on fire as she came yet again. She lay on her stomach on the bed with a pillow rolled up between her thighs, humping it frantically while one hand ploughed her asshole and the other gripped her squashed breast tip. Again, she came.