Pleasure Upon Request

The blonde was still coming down, still struggling to regain herself, no doubt surprised by the flotilla of sperm I dispatched into her womb. Neither of us moved for long moments, enjoying the lingering sensations, before Sadie sagged backward, leaning up against me, my arms going around her.

And there we remained for some time, naked in the shower, the water crashing down at our feet.

* * *

"His request," I revealed.

Sadie was standing naked before me, toweling herself off after our shower sex session and subsequent rinse. It was a pleasure watching her do so, watching her body jiggle, watching her rub herself down; she did not seem to mind me looking, even seemed to enjoy it as evidenced by her sly smile. She was calm and natural, and we had been chatting conversationally when she asked me what prompted my appearance in the bathroom.

"I thought he might send you after me again," she said thoughtfully.

"How was last night?" I asked. "I mean, after."

She folded the towel around her mid-section, covering herself, tucking the cloth back in a knot between her breasts. "Gentle," she told me. "He drew a bath and helped me clean up. He has some notion of going the weekend without sex; I'm not sure he can last much longer."

I grinned. "Should we help him along? Give him a special sort of show?"

The buxom blonde grinned right back. "You mean, tease him into a frenzy? Absolutely."

"Got any ideas?" I asked.

Her eyes sparkled. "As a matter of fact," she said, voice dropping to just above a whisper, "I do."

And it was a doozy.

* * *

Sadie cooked dinner for us on Sunday night, a meat-and-potatoes affair. Doug spent much of the preparation time in the shower cleaning off after a late afternoon workout; I used the time with Sadie to finalize our plans for the evening.

There were twenty minutes during the final cooking phase when the food was on auto-pilot, which allowed Sadie time to clean herself up and hit the restroom; she timed it so that she passed Doug on her way up the stairs, as he came down, the reason for which would soon become clear.

I spent the remaining minutes with Doug, setting the dinner table, mixing drinks, chatting amiably; in other words, general pleasantness. Inwardly, I was grinning, for my friend had no idea what was coming.

We were sitting at the table, enjoying our respective drinks, when the food timer beeped. This, too, was planned, and on cue I called upstairs to Sadie, who called back that she'd be right down.

She came down the stairs slowly, her hand upon the banister, and it took a moment as she did so for her outfit to become apparent, but when she reached the ground floor and sashayed in the direction of the dining table, the dark eyes of her husband went wide with wonder and lust.

I followed them, knowing what was coming and wanting to watch his reaction first, but as my head turned I felt a wave of excitement wash over me: after all, this would be a sight to see.

And it was.

Sadie Stillman, the beautiful, blonde, breathtaking creature with a face like an angel and a body built for sin, was walking towards our table wearing nothing but an oversized cooking apron. It was bright red with no embellishments beyond Kiss the Cook on the front, a strap around her neck, and the ties fastened around her waist. It descended to the middle of her thigh and its width just barely covered her hips from side-to-side.

"Dinner will be served shortly, boys," she purred.

And then she turned and went into the kitchen, and we were treated to the most remarkable sight of her naked backside as she sashayed away, hips swishing, the creases where the top of her legs met her bottom indenting wonderfully. There was also a quick view of her breasts where they lay beneath the front of the apron; there was very little side restriction and those luscious mounds could be easily seen beneath from the right kind of angle.

"Holy . . ." Doug whispered, trailing off.

Sadie returned momentarily with plates made for the both of us. Our eyes were glued to her luscious body, watching and waiting for each peek at her delights, of which there were many as she floated around the table.

And then she came to stand before me, setting my plate down before me, which initiated the truly exciting part of our performance. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled with eagerness and life.

"Turn around," I ordered, keeping my voice firm and level.

"Yes, sir," she cooed, and turned around so that her exposed back and bottom were facing me.

I raised my hand and without looking at Doug, without speaking further, I spanked her once on the rump.

She squeaked and breathed, "Thank you, sir." I spanked her again, and again she squeaked and breathed, "Thank you, sir."

I brought both of my hands to the cheeks of her ass, fondling them, kneading them. It was an exquisite ass and an exquisite body in general, and every fleeting moment I had with it was one worth savoring, so I savored. I spread her cheeks and slipped a finger between, brushing it over the crinkled skin of her anus, and then lower, delving into her folds, already wet with need.

She gasped and pushed her ass back, and opened her legs to give me better access. One of my fingers pushed inside her and she gasped again, while my off-hand left her rump and snaked up and around her torso to clutch her supple left breast.

Sadie was panting heavily now as I touched her, as I probed her, and all in front of her husband, Doug, whom I had yet to even come close to looking at. It was all part of our little game, our little plan to draw him out. It was what Sadie wanted, after all; in this, truly, I was merely a prop.

Still, I savored: her ass was majestic, her pussy divine, her breasts full and fabulous. However long this little game took, I would enjoy myself to the max.

Suddenly, she turned to face me, which was the next cue. I played along and said, commandingly as I pointed at my crotch, "Suck it." I heard a sharp intake of breath from across the table, but still I did not look at my friend.

Sadie smiled as she went to her knees before me and tugged at my jeans and underwear, bearing me fully; needless to say, I was hard. Her soft and slender fingers curled around my shaft and I suppressed a growl.

"So thick," Sadie mewed as she squeezed it, and it twitched in her hand. "So tasty."

And then the glorious and wonderful happened: the soft pink tongue of the beautiful buxom blonde rolled out of her mouth and flicked around the bottom side of my shaft like a hummingbird at its feeder.

I groaned, as there was no stopping it, and Sadie responded by planting a wet kiss right on my mushroom head; I very nearly came right there, but fought it off.

Her fingertips caressed my length even as her tongue continued to tease, and it was obvious that she was very skilled at what she was doing. It was also clearly she wanted her husband to hear it, as she began humming and slurping loudly as my cock slipped into her receptive mouth; she sucked and licked with a kind of crazed but calculated frenzy. Her hot wet tongue flew over my shaft in a swirling motion as her luscious lips wrapped around the head.

It was like heaven, as far as I was concerned, and I relished the feeling as she worked farther and farther down my shaft; truly, she really did know how to handle a cock. The slurping continued, too, along with sounds of her whimpering and cooing and sucking and smacking.

And then, astonishingly, she reached the bottom; I felt her lips press against the skin at the base of my pelvis as Sadie swallowed everything I had, and the sensation of the head of my cock lodged against the muscles of her throat was one of the finest pleasures I'd ever experienced.

I moaned and shuddered again as the blonde clamped her lips around the base of my shaft like pliers on a bolt, and slowly drew them up all several inches of my shaft, sucking hard. When she reached the head, she thrust back down and began bobbing her mouth up and down my cock, tongue swirling, and flicking wildly across its thick veins. Every now and again she would stop and lavish a few delicate kisses on the mushroom head, varying the type of pleasure.

Nor did she neglect certain areas that were often neglected by even the most experienced female head-givers: she worked over my testicles as reverently and passionately as she had my cock. Her lips first sucked my right testicle into her mouth and dined on it, rolling it around the flat of her tongue. She then spent a few endless minutes sucking both my balls in and spitting them out, rolling them around her tongue, and licking over the curve down to the underside. It was the longest and most pleasurable time anyone had ever spent on my balls, even longer than Alyssa, who was excellent herself.

And then it was over, and Sadie's tongue licked a slimy, languorous trail from the base of my shaft to the tip, and I sat there rigid, hardly thinking, hardly breathing. Her pink tongue lashed out and flicked the tip of my engorged penis.

"Fuck," I grunted as she engulfed my meat once more, this time with a different kind of intensity; it felt like a vacuum had swallowed my cock. My head fell back and I growled loudly from the exquisite oral abilities of the sultry woman on her knees before me, and he could feel myself losing control.

When her tongue lashed out and again swirled the head of my cock, while at the same time one of her hands tickled its nails over the wrinkled skin of my scrotum, I knew my end was coming, and coming soon.

Which is why it came a somewhat of a disappointment in that first moment when I saw Doug looming over us, completely naked, a look of wild lust across his face. Sadie noticed the change in me and turned, my cock still in her mouth, but at the sight of her husband, she spit it out and rose to her feet to face him.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Sadie," the man said, voice controlled but wavering.

Her own voice was breathless as she responded, "I'm yours, my love."

And so Doug took her forcefully and threw her onto the table on her stomach, gripping her legs and spreading them and raising them as he went between them, and in moments his cock was buried to the hilt in the pussy of his beautiful blonde wife.

I took the opportunity, of course, to excuse myself, knowing my part in their little play was finished. I'd already let Sadie know that if things went well, which is to say according to plan, which is how they seemed to be going, that she and Doug could stay at the house as long as they wished.

My bag was packed and I crept upstairs to retrieve it before making my way to the front door, and the last thing I saw before I left was Doug pounding into Sadie from behind, growling fiercely as she whimpered through her first orgasm. Truly, she was gorgeous.

And, truly, I was happy for my friends.

* * *

I think I can honestly say I had never in my life been more pent up than I was when I arrived at Alyssa's place just after midnight. It was a brutal drive, my erection throbbing for much of the first half and my balls aching for much of the second. I needed release and there was one clear place for me to get it, and I have to say the look of surprise on the redhead's face when the door opened was absolutely priceless.

"Ricky?" she asked questioningly. She was dressed in a loose white shirt and sweat pants, having readied herself for bed, but there was no sleep fatigue in her light green eyes.

"Alyssa," I nodded, giving her no more than that before I grabbed her and pulled her roughly into my arms.

We did not make it back to the bedroom. There was a rug in the middle of her apartment that was quite comfortable and by the time we reached it, both our clothes were ripped away. It took little time for her to stop struggling and start welcoming, returning my kisses and matching their intensity, and when we settled down on the floor we got right down to business.

I slurped one nipple into my mouth as my hands swept through the soft red downy hairs and right to the folds of her pussy, which were already delightfully moist. She wiggled her hips, working hard to rub herself against my fingers, perhaps expecting some measure of foreplay, but there would be no foreplay this night. Post-play, maybe, but nothing before.

"I'm going to fuck you now," I told her, my voice hard. The respectful thing was to let the lovely redhead know exactly what she was in for, at least.

I positioned myself between her legs as she spread her thighs as wide as they would go, which was an awesome sight as Alyssa was pretty god damned flexible. I settled the head of my cock between the slick lips of her pussy. She was breathing heavily now, waiting, wanting.

"Take me," she purred, and so I did, pressing forward into her oppressively tight depths with a wicked sort of grin, until moments later my balls slapped up against her bottom as I reached the hilt.

And then I began to move, thrusting slowly at first but with increasing speed, and her fingers clawed at my back as she felt every single inch of it again and again. Soon my weight was nearly upon her in the classic missionary position, my elbows and forearms keeping me up as I pounded her for all I was worth.

"Fuck me!" she moaned.

"Take it!" I demanded, my hips moving now at breakneck speed, and yet despite the hard fucking a sly sort of smile crept over her face.

Her voice was a whisper as she said, "I'm yours. This body is yours. Fuck me any way you want, baby, just fuck me hard!"

I roared and pushed myself up, and grabbed her legs and raised them up to my shoulders to create a right angle out of her body where she lay on the rug, her legs in the air, her feet behind my ears. This was one of Alyssa's favorite positions, after all, and would really get her going. My hands clutched her buttocks and spread them apart, giving me access to deeper delights. I also had a wonderful view of her pert little tits and they rippled with each thrust.

I was going to fuck her hard alright.

Alyssa gasped, then whimpered, then gasped as I ran a finger into her crack and rubbed it against her asshole, and slipped just the tip inside. Soon, her gasps and whimpers turned to weeping as orgasm tore through her body, wrecking her utterly.

Like I've said, it never takes her long.

She shuddered and quaked, and then went limp as she collapsed upon the rug, limbs loose, eyes fluttering, mouth open. It seemed like it must've been a mighty good climax, which often left her senseless for long moments afterward.

Which I used to my advantage.

My hands went to work again, pushing her legs over and around and under, pushing her rump up with her knees beneath and her face, breasts, and shoulders mashed into the rug-covered ground in that excellent half dog-style, half downward-dog yoga pose. Her arms were splayed out to the sides, useless. My cock, of course, was still buried deep inside her.

I clutched the rounded cheeks of her rump and steadied her, and then began to maniacally pummel her, impaling her to the hilt with every forward thrust. The flesh of her ass rippled, but she said nothing, still out of it.

Until she wasn't. "Fuuuuuuuucckkkk!" she wailed, and I knew she was back.

I don't know how long it was that I fucked Alyssa in that position, but I do know it was long and powerful, and intense. I did not break rhythm once, nor paused at any time, although I did vary the angle of entry, carving out her pussy to a significant degree. The woman blubbered a great deal, whimpering, moaning, and squeaking, but never complained, never asked me to stop, never pleaded for mercy, and so I kept on fucking her thin body relentlessly.

It was her second orgasm that finally did me in.

It had been a quiet, focused, hard fucking with only my growls and her myriad sounds, and the echoes thereof, but when her body went rigid suddenly and her back arched, the moment following changed all that.

Alyssa screamed, a blood-curdling, banshee-esque sound seemingly ripped from the pit of her soul, like a hydrogen bomb had just detonated within her. Her whole body convulsed, from her fingers to her toes and everywhere between, including the fiercely tight tunnel of her pussy, the muscles of which constricted and vibrated like a tuning fork struck at highest pitch.

I had been an absolute machine until that point, but her scream and the feel of those twitching muscles ended me. I grunted and exploded, and rope after ropy length of cum spurted into her womb, splashing over her walls and filling the cavern with hot white stickiness.

When finished, I pulled out and sat back on my heels, watching her quivering body struggle with the aftereffects of extreme orgasm. Juice dribbled out of her battered pussy, clear slashed with white, and trickled down her thighs before dripping onto the rug.

Her eyes were closed as she sucked in ragged gasps, then opened and looked wearily back at me. There was amusement in those light green pools and I knew the coming question before it was asked.

"Wow," she breathed. "To what or whom do I owe the pleasure?"

I considered answering, but a glob of my cum bubbling out of her pussy drew the focus of my gaze. My eyes traveled higher to the compressed plot of her anus, the two curved cheeks so tight and firm that they hardly touched when she was standing up, and when bent forward on her knees as she was, the crack of her ass was a gaping grand canyon.

I maneuvered myself around and kissed her tenderly on her lips, as close as I would come to saying thank you until the following morning, before I returned to my place behind her and the wicked grin returned.

"I'll tell you when we're done," I growled, and stuck a finger up her ass.

Alyssa shrieked, and kept shrieking for a long time after.

Epilogue: Itches

It was the heart of October, overcast and cool with the winds swirling outside, and what else was there to do for a couple of guys on a Sunday in October than to hang out and watch a little football, particularly when the watching includes a massive high definition television with stereo surround sound. With a set-up like that, it didn't even matter who was playing

Beers were flowing. I was on my fourth, Doug maybe his fifth or sixth; when football was in season, it was probable the two of us would finish a twelver any given Sunday.

In six weeks and despite multiple occasions to do so, we had not yet discussed our weekend together in Whitewood. There had been some sly smiles my direction from Sadie and a few glances of appreciation from Doug, but no one had mentioned the actual acts as of yet. It had dawned on me that we likely never would; I would certainly never initiate that conversation and it seemed as though the Stillmans were ready to move on.

I was wrong, of course.

Perhaps it was the camaraderie such a situation inspires. Perhaps my friend was a few too many beers deep. Perhaps it was something else entirely, but the topic did come up and it came up that very afternoon.

The catalyst, of course, and as always, was the arrival of the woman herself.

As usual, Sadie looked gorgeous: bright yellow sundress down to the middle of her thigh, showing plenty of long tanned leg; large white belt looped through her thin waist; and tasteful cleavage showing just a hint of the splendors beneath. Her hair was down and flowing, and golden blonde. Her bright blue eyes sparkled. Her beauty was fresh and clean, and effortless.

"How was the luncheon?" Doug called, smiling at the sight of his wife.

"Lunch with the girls, no boys allowed?" she teased, her voice silvery and light. She flashed a winning smile. "Too much fun!"

I grinned. It was time for a little flirtation. "Sounds hot," I said friskily. "Take any photos?"

Her laugh was cheerful and warm. "If you're a good boy," she chirped as she made her way across the room, "maybe I'll show you!"