Andrea Herty - Chained To Desire

Vern had met Ellen Lanning at the bar, but now they sat in a dimly lit booth in a comer of the large cafe. They sat very close, giggling as they sipped their third margarita and listened to the guitarist some twenty yards away. Vern found it hard to believe that this lovely, very square, young schoolteacher from Los Angeles had come to San Juan, Puerto Rico on her summer vacation with the idea of at last losing her virginity.

A practical business man, Vern did not believe in twenty-eight-year-old virgins. But that's what she'd confided to him, and somehow he believed her. His hand roamed freely up and down her leg beneath the table. He nibbled at her ear. "But why me?" he asked again, excited. He had never fucked a virgin before.

She sighed, pressing her breast against his shoulder. "I told you," she said. "It has to be someone, huh? And you just seem like-well, Mr. Right."

"Are you sure I'm Mr. Right?" he asked, boldly guiding her hand under the table to his swollen, aching hard-on that pressed so hard against his fly he thought it might break.

She groaned, caressing the length of his erect stalk, then cupped his balls with her eager hand. "Ohhh, yesss," she intoned. Then, a trifle embarrassed, she withdrew her hand and glanced nervously about the room to see if anyone had seen her groping. "Please, I-I've told you an awful lot. More than I ever told any man. But it's true…I need you…can't we go to your hotel now?" Her breath came fast, her large breasts rising and falling, the nipples erect beneath the sheer, white blouse.

"Uh-in a minute," Vern said, glancing down at his erection. "I have this slight problem, you see."

Her full lips parted in a trembling smile as she tried to look casual. "Oh, yes," she squeaked. "I see. It's marvelous, Vern. You will forgive me, Vern? I'm shaking all over. I-I don't know why. I mean, I've seen the best porno movies. It isn't as if I-"

She broke off, hugging herself and rocking forward and backward, visibly trembling all over. "Damn it!" she whispered. "You know what this is all about, don't you? I'm afraid it isn't going to happen, Vern. I-I'm terrified you're going to change your mind. I'm terrified youll see some other female you want to sleep with. I need you, Vern. I never thought I'd say that to any man, but it's true. I've waited so long and it's so important. Oh, forgive me." She laid her forehead against his arm and stared down at his hard-on hungrily, obviously embarrassed by her confession. "You can't possibly understand-not possibly."

"You want to bet?" Vern said, patting her head paternally. "Look, men know all about the way you feel. We've been where you are right now a hundred times, a thousand times. Don't worry, Ellen. I won't run off. No chance. Well make it together and it will be good for you. I promise."

He kissed the top of her head then, inhaling the fragrance of the shiny, fight-brown tresses and trying to think his hard-on away so they could leave for his hotel. And then, just two booths to their right, Vern saw a semi-elderly couple engaged in sex play. He couldn't believe his eyes! While the waiter discreetly looked the other way, the woman was sucking off her husband in perfect time to the guitar music! Her blonde-gray head bobbed up and down, up and down, appearing and disappearing beneath the table. Panting, mouth open, the man seemed heavy-lidded, drunk, as his wife gobbled his meat greedily.

"The Americanos are out making terrific reputations for themselves as usual," Vern said. "Look, dear."

Ellen glanced over at the public sex scene, blinked her large, brown eyes in amazement and swallowed. "I don't believe it!" she whispered. "Can't they wait?"

"Guess not," Vern said. "Come on. Let's get out of here while this pole of mine is at least partly soft."

It was a typically humid Caribbean night. The moon was full and the calm surf of Morro Bay showed silver as it splashed flat on the pure, white sand. Vern hailed a publico, and ten minutes later the driver pulled up in front of the Caribe Hilton. The casino was jammed with affluent turistas. Hand in hand, Vern and Ellen entered the elevator, got off at the fifth floor, and then they were alone in Vern's room. He opened the drapes, allowing a good view of the moonlit sea.

Ellen stood staring out and Vern got behind her, encircled her with his arms, cupped her breasts and pressed his rising manhood against her delectable buttocks. She wagged her ass, massaging his prick. Vern licked at her neck and ear, flicked her erect nipple with his thumbs. "God, do I ever want to fuck you," he said.

To his surprise, her hand immediately dropped and began fondling his bone-hard cock. "I want you to do everything to me," she said. "And I want to do everything to you. You-you'll have to forgive me, but I've waited a-a lifetime for this!"

Both hands on his pulsing prong, she slithered to her knees before him then and began kissing his hard-on beneath his trousers. He stared down at her, letting her have her way, letting her mew and rub her cheeks adoringly against his tingling cock and balls.

"Can I trust you?" she asked. "Can I trust you to make it good?"

"You can trust me," he stammered. "Don't worry. You'll come, sugar. I promised, didn't I?" He decided it was time for some male direction. "Take it out, Ellen," he said evenly. "Take my prick out of my pants and do whatever you want. Do what you have to do. It's all right, Ellen. I understand. Take my prick out."

"Yes, yesss," she cried. "Oh, God yesss…"

Her mouth went slack and her eyes grew desperate as she unzipped his fly. And then his expanded cock, tall and thicker and dribbling more than he could ever remember, flopped free for her adoring inspection. She grasped it hard, began showering it with adoring, hungry kisses, cradled it between her chin and heaving chest, babbled incoherently something about maleness. Staring down, Vern could make out only a few of her frenzied phrases. "… big stick…beautifully hard…fuck stick…come in me…lick cock…"

She went on and on that way, in a kind of loving, holy, female chant. It was a beautiful thing to witness, and Vern felt his prick expand as it had never expanded before. It was difficult to believe this young woman was a virgin. Well, he would soon find out, and even if she weren't cherry, what the hell difference did it make? Still the idea of fucking, of initiating a virgin, excited him beyond his wildest expectations.

He reached down and began unbuttoning the back of her blouse while her kisses grew wet against his flesh stalk. He wanted his prick against her sensitive nipples. "You're doing fine," he gasped. "Let's get those tits out. I want 'em against my balls. I wanna feel 'em while you lick my cock. All right?"

"Yes. Ohh, yesss," she chanted, shuddering. "Tell me what to do. I-I'll do anything-everything!"

Her blouse was off now. Vern released her bra clasp and her big tits hung free and milk-white in the moonlight. He palmed the breasts, rolling the dark, erect nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as he pumped slightly with his hips, spearing his hard-on against her neck, cheeks, lips. She rolled her head as if the pleasure she was experiencing was too intense to bear. He then fucked, with steady thrusts, each erect nipple. Without coaxing, she spread the aperture at the end of his cock and inserted one nipple and then the other inside his cock slit.

"You're an imaginative little virgin," he managed.

"I've had lots of time f-for f-fantasies," she murmured.

"Now take it in your mouth," he commanded gently. "Take my hard-on all the way inside your mouth and nurse on it." Suddenly, he held her head, stopping her hungry lunge. "No, first lick the head…lick it clean."