Arthur Alexander - Emily_s Lips

It was bound to happen. It had to. You know how it is. I don't have to tell you about it.

I bore her down upon the sand. I forced aside her vague, distracted fingers, ripped aside her encumbering clothes. I seated her naked ass upon the cold earth, and I plunged my vast cock into her with the force of a rape. I pounded at her like a mad thing. I would kill her if necessary with fucking. Her claws commenced to rake my back. She nearly strangled me with the power of her embrace as her breathing changed to gasps, and her gasps to cries. I felt fingernails digging into my buttocks.

My toes scrabbled in the sand for resistance, I rose off my knees and slammed down into her, my balls battered against her heaving ass. She spread her thighs until they creaked and lashed at my back with her heels. I was pouring with sweat, and the hair of my chest was matted and rasping against her squashed tits. My hands clenched on her shoulders and pulled her torso against mine as hard as I could. With each gasp, she slammed her head harder against my neck and shoulder. Her hair slashed at my face and filled my panting mouth. Her cunt slung itself up and up against my driving loins, and rasping moans were torn from her throat with each lunge. And then I was coming, jetting hard spurts of sperm deep, deep, all over the floor of her heart.

Her moans broke into a scream, and her teeth clamped upon my shoulder as she too came. She battered her cunt on my cock through the shuddering of her climax, harder, and then more softly, More softly.

We ground to a ragged halt.

For a long time, my sweating face lay pressed into the sand beside her shoulder.

Our breathing began to still. Her cunt was still clenching now and then on my cock as slowly it wilted amidst our swimming juices.

I came back to the present. I looked down at her face. My God, it was Carla. Carla! I opened my mouth to speak who-knows-what words of confusion and remorse. But she placed a finger across my lips, and she breathed. "No. Not a word. Don't speak, my friend, don't speak."

We pulled apart, stickily. I looked down to watch my veined and shrinking coc k emerge slowly from the red and smashed lips of her cunt. A thick gob of white semen washed backwards to ooze from her lips as my head finally parted from her.

Her profuse, dark cunt hair was matted wetly away from her slit, and I bent my face slowly between her tumbled thighs to place a reverent kiss upon that reeking wound.

The smell of her juices and my sperm was rich and sharp. As my nostrils and mind were swept with this intoxicating scent, my lips pressed softly against her swollen, slippery membranes. My cock began to stir again with the sensation. I began to suck deeply of her leaking, red flesh, softly to drink the sperm and cunt-juice which welled from her like thick blood. But she pulled me up and kissed me softly with her other lips, and she licked from my beard the nectar of cunt and cock which I had so recently been drinking from her own wet sex. She repeated herself: "Not a word. No more, Arthur. But don't say anything."

Well, it had been bound to happen. Five days of hiking with her through these Oregon mountains, five days of watching her in her elegant pirouettes. She had been teasing me, I think, allowing me to watch her bathe in snow-melt this morning, growing careless of what the firelight showed of her hands upon her husband's body.

Tony had not been helping to hide their intimacies. And, when he and I were alone, the conversations had turned to sex. Casually, he had told me of her body, her pleasures, and, as casually, I had described the heady pleasures of Emily in bed.

But Emily had not come along this time, being too involved in a thesis project, and it was just the three of us, three friends, three healthy humans, three… well, you get the point.

And there was Tony, not two miles away, sunning himself through the afternoon beside this rushing river, unaware of the sudden change which had occurred. We had been playing with fire, as the saying goes. Carla's joy, her suppleness, her strength. She-and he-had kept me tingling for days. It had been bound to happen.

Something anyway was necessary to relieve the tension. Masturbating was all very well, in fact I loved it dearly, but when listening to the slight sounds of Tony and Carla making love in their sleeping bag only feet away… and then last night I'm certain they had known I was listening to them. The liquid sounds of Carla's mouth sucking him rose to a feverish pitch as his stifled gasps broke from his straining throat. Only that afternoon he had been telling me how much she loved to suck upon his cock, how she adored the slow tension which mounted in his muscles, the quivering which heralded his explosive orgasm. She loved the taste of come, he had said, licked it all into her mouth with an avid tongue, sucked it deep down her throat, dipped the last puddles up from his sweaty belly with a slender fingertip and tipped those drops onto the end of her tongue as though they were honey. And there she was now, licking and sucking his desperate cock! Through slitted eyes I could see the dark shape of her starlit head bobbing over him. I could hear the frenzied twitching of his arms and legs. I was beating off-and it felt so very good-and yet I yearned. Oh, I ached! I opened my bag so she could see my hand flying up and down my quivering cock if she should turn her head, and I listened to Tony's moans mixed with the wet sucking sounds of her soft mouth. I allowed myself to groan and thrash a little.

I wanted her to see me, to watch my beautiful cock as it came. I knew my chest, and belly, and hand would be bathed with come, and I wanted her to witness it. And she did! Oh, she did. As my hand flew faster and my cock grew even stiffer. Carla raised her head off of Tony and stared in my direction through the night. Her hands were flying up and down Tony's glimmering, wet cock, but her eyes were on me as I arched, arched, arched, and then camel A nd after I had come, I heard her give a trembling moan as she kneeled around, opened her cunt over Tony's mouth, and lowered her ass onto his face.

So it was bound to happen. You know how it is though. Something, some event, is coming toward you all the time, and yet, when it is there, you can only half believe it.

They had been aching, I suppose for months, to share their sex. It was something everyone tried, after all, part of the ethos of our generation. They knew Karen was living with Emily and me, and the nature of the relationship must have been obvious.

But, still, one never believes it. I hardly could, after Carla dressed again and we began meandering back along the riverbed to the camp. It wasn't really until we were replete with stew and secured by darkness that our conversation and our emotions began to encompass it all. Tony had certainly not been surprised by it. Perhaps they had even schemed the event.

With us intellectual types, it's only by talking about something that it becomes real.

Our conversation analyzed and re-analyzed the whole event until we had gotten the emotions well enough corralled so they couldn't threaten us. But that way is a denial of the events themselves.

"We all need an access to lust," I said. "We need to be carried away."

"Yes?" mused Tony, a match to his pipe.

"This is much too decadent and sophisticated an idea, I'm sure, but to the thing is that most of us never have any access to lust. Oh, we may make love all our days, and yet we never touch the complete fulfillment of the desire to be with, which is, after all, what it's all about."