Marc Mixer: Sex For Everyone

Abruptly she slid down him, her head at his chest level, her opening past his throbbing cock which now lay pinned between her belly and his. He was ready now for the next stage.

"Gil, I'm a girl who likes to be played with first. Do you know what that means?"

His hands on her back tightened, trying to pull her upwards again, but he didn't have the leverage. "Pl-please, I-"

She looked at him hotly and moved her belly teasingly on his cock. "Oh, we're going to fuck ail right, don't you worry about that. We're going to fuck like crazy. You want that, don't you, Gil? You want to fuck me like crazy, don't you?"

"S-sure I d-do, I do."

She lifted herself from him. "Well, then, first you're going to have to interest me-the way a milkman should, the way only a milkman can, really. I want you to tell me a story, Gil, about how the milkman makes his rounds,"

"Huh?" His expression was one of confusion.

"Like this, Gil."

She rolled onto her back beside him. "Now watch the fingers. I want you to tell me all about how in the early morning the milkman pads on quiet feet, slipping in and out of houses. Slipping in and out of his truck. Slipping…" Her finger actions matched each verb.

"See, Gil. Make your fingers do the talking. Try it now." She took his hand to replace her own on her body.

He nodded dumbly, but his hand and quivering voice picked up the thread of the story from where Gert had left off.

"Uh, well… he slips in and out of the houses,. just like you said-is that okay?-uh…" He thought for a moment, then started again: "But first he has to… to go to the dairy! Right, he has to go to get the milk in the first place. Uh…"

"Does the dairy have a back entrance?" Gert prompted.

"A back entrance? Well, yeah, but-oh, you mean your-"

She smiled patiently at him. "It's your story, Gil, but a back entrance at that dairy would be sort of nice at this point."

"Well, okay, but I never did that before-I mean, with a girl's-er, rec-rec-rectum."

"Say asshole, Gil. It's easier."

"Er, yeah-"

"Gil, you've stopped making your rounds!" His hands jerked into motion. "He slides in and out of-"

"Gil, is that all you do-slide? One would think milkmen do other interesting things like prod and search and ram and lift. Now get to work!"

Very rapidly Gil went to work:

"Uh, he goes to the dairy-he goes into the back entrance of the dairy and searches and searches for his orders for the day. 'Ram, ram' he goes through the back door searching, hunting-and then he gathers up the bottles and places each of them in carry-all cases. One, two, into the case, three four five-uh-oh, this one doesn't fit, have to jam it."

Gert almost cried "Yippee!" as her student was now catching on. She almost cried "Mercy!" when she felt his three fingers enter her rear, including the thumb-and jam he did. And what followed was just fine, just fine. She learned all about how the milkman loaded thirty-four delicious cases of milk and cream, nine bottles to a case-three hundred and six strokes-some in the cases behind the milkman, some to the front of him. All the time his trembling cock brushed lightly against her outer thigh, dripping hot sticky cream, softly lathering her.

At a verbal pause Gert stretched an arm across the bed, reaching into the nightie pocket for the butter she'd brought upstairs with her.

"You haven't said anything about the butter," she said, holding the stick aloft as she unwrapped it. "Nice, warm greasy dairy's best butter. As a reward for your story, let me tell you about warm yellow butter. This butter, this particular stick, is so nice."

She nudged him over onto his back, his pudgy prick standing at a forty-five degree angle to his body. Grasping the thick root with the hand that held the butter, she squeezed, wrapping the butter around the prong, evenly distributing the oozing yellowness up and down and around the length of his throbbing shaft. She worked it then with long languorous strokes, the friction of her hands on his hot cock melting the mass, dripping it onto his stomach. That thick hot cock. Ah! And Gert had decided where she wanted it-if it would fit.

"You've never fucked a woman up the ass, have you?" she asked in a whisper, bringing her face over his, her breasts pressing into his writhing torso. She knew the answer from his earlier remark, but the gleam in his eye told her that he was anxious to give it a try. Pivoting on his body, her behind facing him now, but not stopping the firm sliding insistent motion of her right hand on his swelling, bursting, too, her left hand supped his taut, full balls and slipping greasy fingers down his crack, lathering the distance with the melting butter. His moan was delicious to hear.

Then, without missing a stroke, she sat on him, impaling herself on the greasy oozing buttered stick.

The entry was easy-much easier than she would have thought: She could feel the cock already beginning to expand to fill the walls of her upper rectum. A pound of flesh was squeezing into her tight receptive ass, melting the stick, until she wanted to scream in ecstasy. Her sphincters contracted, giving his tool an expelling ride outward, but he caught her to him and thrust deeper into her again and again until she felt herself getting dizzy from the effort of keeping her head in the air.

Grasping his hips, she rolled herself over onto the bed, holding him in place. She was about to lower her body flat onto the bed when he lifted her torso with both hands using her cunt as hoist for his petard-like fingers, ramming into her rear with all his force. He rammed and rammed and ground and drove into her with his might until she felt she couldn't stand the frenzy building within her. Ah, for someone who'd never pronged an asshole before, he was doing-ah!

His hands worked furiously at her front, his reaming rod pierced her rear, his balls against her buttocks, the weight of his body grinding her breasts into the soft-hard surface of the bed. Writhing and moaning with the pain-pleasure of his swift-climbing thrusts she felt the storm fury mounting. Her upper limbs numb, her lower ones tingling, quivering with the sensation of rough hands kneading, entering, sliding into her, her muscles pressing to keep them imprisoned within her, fighting the natural squeezing of her anal muscles, trying to maintain a rhythm.

Front back front back squeeze relax squeeze. She was afraid of losing some of it, any of it, front or back or back or front, until her mind forgot to think but numbly-calmly accepted the explosion that came from within him and passed into her and moved up upward toward that approaching plateau which with one more grasp would be hers and she grasped it and held onto it-the place that said it all, that was it all. And she laughed, a from-the-womb laugh that told her she had reached her goal safely and surely.

"That was… was good!" Gil decided. He was now standing by the side of the bed looking down at Gert, who in turn rested upright, her back against two fluffed-up pillows. She inhaled deeply on her cigarette and smiled back at him.

"You liked it?" she asked.

"I sure did, but there's just one thing."

"Namely."

"Well, all this stuff we been doing. I just realized

… well, that I… I mean, we… haven't done it regular." He was looking down at her cunt. "You know what I mean."

Her smile broadened, but her eyes focused on his limp, at-rest phallus. "I know what you mean, but are you sure?…" She let her voice trail off.

He too looked down at his tool. "I don't know. I'd like to, really, but I really don't know if I can."

At which point Gert remembered all that cream in the bathroom. She jumped lightly from the bed. "But I know that I can. Gil, follow me."

"All this lovely cream," she said when they were both in the other room. "Good quality stuff?"