Bob Katt: Hot 'n juicy Lucy

My cock dangled limply, as sad and sorry as I was. Janet had sucked me off three times and made me fuck her twice before I'd left the office. But it was the trapped feeling that made me, and nay pride, so despondent.

"Lie down, darling," said Lillian with a businesslike air. "That's right." She knelt on the bed beside me and stroked my forehead. "I'll soon make you feel good," she promised.

Lillian loves fucking. But she's ruthlessly methodical about it. She'd make a mental note she was going to fuck Tuesday. Then on Tuesday, she'd fuck, and fuck all night. Nothing would deter her from it. But if she never planned it, fucking never entered her head. Every time we met it was automatically a fucking date. My big fat prick has a mind of its own. It likes to keep busy. Very often my prick was worn out when I met Lillian. She was accustomed to me having a tiring day at the office. But she was always so set on fucking when we met that she'd taught herself re-arousal techniques that always got results. Even when I hadn't an ounce of spunk left in me, she'd work on me until my prick was hard enough to toss herself off against.

"Relax, Mike," she soothed. I closed my eyes and she devoted her attention to my cock.

It was as flabby as a used condom filled with water. That didn't deter her. She placed it upon my belly with its knob pointing towards my head. She rested her hand upon it and roly-polyed it upon my belly. Her other hand teased into my buttock cleavage, fingered my Brownie and played with my balls.

I was a sad, sad man. My youthful, zestful hunt for cunt was nearing its end. The grim, grey walls of matrimonial imprisonment loomed larger every hour. Janet had sucked me dry of spunk before I'd left the office so I wasn't at that moment a wild, rip-roaring lover.

But that stiff prick of mine has incredible reserves. I scowled as it traitorously responded to Lillian's caresses. We could have stood shoulder to shoulder and withheld what Lillian was after. She might even have got so mad and frustrated that she'd storm away. But no. The traitor betrayed me. The bastard twitched happily, shrugged off our worries and leaped around like a puppy that's eager to play.

"There! You see!" Lillian said triumphantly. "I know exactly what you like best!"

I wasn't sure if she was talking to me, or to my prick. But now it was standing up she could work on it with both hands. She frictioned its skin sheath up and down with one hand, and stroked the fingertips of her other hand around the crown of my knob. That was lovely. My prick showed its approval by drooling. Lillian dabbled her fingers in the drool until they were soaked and then smeared the goo all over my knob and down around the shaft. This was when my prick and I buried the hatchet. I hated the bastard for getting me into a mess. But I had to approve his instinct for nosing into pleasure. I launched myself into adventure with him.

Lillian's sticky hands frictioned my cock so inspiredly it leapt in her hands like a wild thing. She crooned over it and loved it. She painted her nipples with my love-dew, using my knob as a paintbrush. She sloshed it up and down between her breasts, painted her neck and chin, then held it a suspenseful split-second while her tongue moistened her lips. Then her clinging cunt-like mouth closed greedily over my knob and bathed it in hot saliva.

Lillian was a champion sucker. Janet had drawn out all the spunk I'd had stored in the pit of my balls. But Lillian's delicious sucking stirred up my inner reserves of spunk and brought it flooding into my balls. It seethed there, hot and eager to cooperate in my climatic spurting.

Lillian slobbered my knob out of her mouth. She looked at me with dreamy eyes. "It's hot and throbbing, now, Mike. Are you ready?"

"Ready."

She straddled my chest and eased forward until her pussy was poised only inches above my mouth. She lowered herself slowly. The hot, sexy smell of cunt invaded my senses while her wet cunt-lips stroked my cheeks. She moved her loins with boneless grace, like a snake. Her dangling cunt-lips drew a sticky pattern on my face. She painted a moustache on my upper lips., gave me sideburns, and then a beard. Then she brought her pussy down squarely upon my mouth. She gave a soft grinding movement that plastered her cunt-lips over my lips and kept grinding her loins until my lips and chin had sunken into her hot mushiness. She kept grinding my mouth into her cunt until my mouth was full of her drool. She eased up now and again to let me breathe, and swallow. Then she slid down me, her cunt-lips trailing over my chest and down my belly. By the time she reached my groin my torso was filmed with glistening love-goo.

She excited herself so much doing this that when she poised her cunt-lips over my knob she was trembling with impatience. She lowered herself slowly. Dangling cunt-lips enveloped my knob hungrily, nibbled eagerly and then gulped. She didn't prolong penetration. She slid right down my shaft, straddling and sitting upon me squarely. Her cunt-lips were spread out over my pubic hairs and her hips ground around until she was firmly settled in the saddle. She clamped her thighs tight against my flanks, took a big deep breath, and then tightened up.

She's the only girl I know who can do it. She can loosen up her cunt until my big, fat prick slides in easily right up to the hilt. Then, once it's embedded deep inside her, she can tighten up her cunt. She tautens muscles that constrict the walls of her vagina. It's a wonderful feeling. It's like having my cock strapped up in a straitjacket made of hot, sticky cunt-membranes. She tightened up so beautifully, the constriction made me sob with pleasure.

And that was only the beginning! She took another deep breath. Her cunt was a lace-up corselet. My prick was laced up tight. But she went over the lacing, found slack and drew it in.

I daren't move. I lay perfectly still, quietly whimpering my joy. The delicious constriction made my prick burn and it grew hotter every second.

She took another deep breath. She tightened up for the third time. There was almost no slack to take up. It was all increased constriction. The throbbing length of my prick was gripped by a powerful, fleshy vise that magnified my prick's throbbing a hundred times.

"Heady!" panted Lillian. Her voice was low and husky.

I grunted.

She began to move.

She rode up and down. It wasn't a frictionlng movement. The walls of her cunt were welded so closely to my prick that they moved up and down together. It was this that made Lillian's strait-jacking cunt so unique. If there'd been even slight friction in addition to the delicious constriction, I'd have been spurting instantly. As it was, her clinging cunt held me poised on the brink of orgasm. I simmered happily, suspended a heart pulse away from ecstasy.

The most wonderful moment in love-making is the split-second before spurting. Lillian's fucking technique, and crafty cunt, maintained us both at that high, erotic pitch for an incredible length of time.

I could never calculate how long she kept us poised on the knife-edge of orgasm because my pleasure was so great it was a mindless eternity, It could have been a thousand years that we were both completely absorbed by pure, physical sexual ecstasy. I never knew how many times she came while she held my prick in that delicious vise. Perhaps, like me, she came only once, and with me. Or perhaps she had dozens of little orgasms. But it was always Lillian who decided when I would come. She achieved it by slackening the cunt-lacing around my prick at a crucial moment, and allowing her cunt-walls to friction my prick, as well as constrict it.

She howled aloud when I came. My spunk might have been molten gold pouring into her. She was sitting astride me but as I began to spurt she hunched up and flopped down on me, her breasts plastered over my chest and her cute little ass stuck up high and pistoning furiously.