Marc Mixer: Sex For Everyone

He looked at her questioningly as she placed the plug snugly into the bottom of the tub. "Good? Sure. We take pride in-"

I'm sure you do. But if it's not the best, it might not work for what I have in mind. Here, let me take that now."

And her left hand grasped his limp maleness.

He shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure-"

"But I am. You just watch now."

And he did, as by his cock she led him closer to the tub, until hand and cock were beyond its edge, gently pulling him so that finally to keep his balance he had to place his hands on the tiles on the other side.

"Perfect, now we won't spill a drop," Gert purred, as she slowly poured the first quart of cream over his dangling prick, rubbing some of it into his flesh as she did so. With appreciative eyes he watched her fingers play in the white liquid that dripped from him into the tub below.

"Isn't this nice?" she asked him, without waiting for an answer, continuing: "Milk baths are supposed to be restorative in nature. Let's see if it can restore a little life to that juicy meat of yours."

And, sure enough, with her carefully massaging fingers and all:

Quart number two brought a couple of throbs and a sharp intake of breath from Gil.

Quart three elicited a tightening from just over the scrotum.

Four and five expanded the prick to almost full size.

Seven had the tool at maximum readiness.

Eight brought some come-juice to the fore, while the cock's owner squirmed as if trying to cut himself loose.

Nine and a peck from her lips on his bare buttocks brought a sudden violent throb from the tool in her hand.

Checking Visually at ten and another throb, she saw that some of Gil's own cream had joined that of his dairy's.

Eleven brought an eyes-closed moan and Twelve Dropping the empty carton on the floor with its eleven predecessors, Gert grasped his cock with all ten of her fingers and stepped around him into the tub.

"Ready?" she asked.

She did not need his eager nod to tell her that he was. With surprising agility he was in the tub beside her, following her down to a squatting position. "Now, Gil, on your back. I'm going to fuck the bejesus out of that creamy cock of yours."

A moment's indecision came over his face; then he was down, buttocks sliding on the slippery porcelain bottom of the tub. From her still squatting vantage point Gert looked with pleasure at him. His body had displaced just enough of the cream so that, besides his head which rested on the tiles above the tub, only his thick prick ascended from the white fluid like a pylon in a milk-white sea. It was a darling scene.

"Yum," she said, and, slipping her crotch back over and past his knees, she dove down mouth first at his cock.

"Oooooo," Gil said as she made contact. "That's good."

"But this will be better," she replied, and squoosh! went the cream as she lifted herself upward and forward, then downward and backward to impale herself on the upright stake.

Squoosh! went the cream again. "Oooo!" went Gil.

"Ohhh!" went Gert. The first taste of the rigid thickness was delightful to her cunt which, as it moved upward and downward along the rod's length, created waves that slapped rhythmically against the sides of the tub and that rolled pleasurably over her back and buttocks and into the crack of her ass and-oooo!

As he was pumping now too, meeting her down-pushes with up-pushes, and as they pounded each other's flesh the cream, the cream, the beautiful cream, was squooshing and splashing and oozing and caressing, and all was at a frantic peace in this wonderful world of bare-assed bathing.

"Yuggubah!" Gil cried. Or something like that, Gert wasn't sure. But "yuggubah" was as good a word as any to describe what she was feeling. Ah, this cream-what an idea. Water was too-well, watery-and milk was, too. But the creamy, creamy cream that squooshed and splashed and slathered and slid and slipped and slimed and stuck and-yuggubah!

Around her inner thighs, between her breasts, but especially around his tool as they plunged their lower selves together and apart, the lubricious lubrication seemed to rise in temperature-or was it hers, rather than the tub's or the cream's, which was rising? And before she had a chance to really consider the question seriously, much less answer it, she had the distinct impression that it didn't really matter very much. Because Socking it, sucking it, shucking it, shocking it-she rose up, her hands planted on the tub bottom:

Y-y-y-yu YUG-GU-BAHHHHHHHHH. In her ecstasy, she fell upon the mass of soft flesh beneath her, rolling, tossing, thrashing, coming, coming, all come already and still rolling tossing thrashing-still?

She lifted up again with curiosity.

His face broke the surface of the liquid and spewed out a mouthful. Fortunately he had the sense of etiquette to turn his head first. As he gasped for air, Gert thought to herself how really funny he looked. But it was time to be solicitous. After all, he had done his part and rather nicely at that. She decided to tell him so.

"Gil, that was simply marvelous. I've never had a fuck like that before. Really."

"Me neither," he said. He paused to catch his breath. "Re-really."

She smiled at him as she helped him to a sitting position. "Well, what now? Do you have any other good ideas?"

"Other-? Urp! Well, I'd sure like to. Yeah. But… I gotta go-to work, I mean." As they stood together, Gert saw his face looked anxious.

She nodded. "I can understand that, but don't you think you ought to shower first?"

His look now was One of distrust. "Shower here, with you?"

She laughed. "I see. You'd like a little privacy. All right. I'll use the other shower." She stepped out of the tub. "Just pull the plug and all that sticky cream will go away and you can get clean as a whistle."

She skipped lightly out of the master bath and down the hall toward the other upstairs shower, dripping white cream along the wood floor as she did so.

Gil, she thought to herself. Gil of the thick prick. Before he left he'd probably ask her when he could drop in again. She shook her head. Never, is what she ought to tell him. But Never burn your bridges, Gert girl. Especially nice thick ones.

No, she'd tell him that when ever he was passing by on his early morning rounds, if the kitchen light was on…

Sure. She never got up that early normally, and whenever she did want a little diversion, on would go the light. Easy. The hot little old kitchen light.

Hot?

She stopped dead in the hall. Lord? She should have mentioned to Gil that the hot water faucet in the shower was a tricky thing, that unless you did it just so, a stream of scalding Her train of thought was broken off by his agonized scream.

Seven days after Gil, a naked Gert waited in the bedroom for her husband. For days she had been full of a suppressed excitement. Now she had a "souvenir" for him, but she wasn't quite sure how to go about presenting the idea of her "trips." She recalled some of the teasing he had given her about what suburban housewives did during the day when they had first moved to their community. But, then, he did issue her that challenge, right?

They had this ritual. He would tell her what day he was coming home but not the exact hour. She had taken to being propped up in bed, naked, ready for him whatever hour he arrived. She ate waiting for him, read waiting for him, watched TV. She sometimes fell asleep waiting for him. Waiting for the surprise she knew would be coming. But tonight she had something as well. She waited with neither a book nor TV tonight. And after a time she dozed. In a state of semi-wakefulness she reached to pull up the sheet she was sure had been covering her. Her hands groped toward the end of the bed until she was half sitting. She sensed another presence in the room and was immediately fully awake, accustoming her eyes to the glaring light that struck them.