Tickled Pink

Her other hand was rubbing over the mountain of her breast, rubbing her nipple under her palm. The other breast quivered with the motion of her hand between her legs, her whole body oiled to a fine sheen in the sun. I rubbed the slick, hot head of my cock against the cool glass, sliding my pre-cum in a vertical line, up and down, wishing it was her slit I was butting up against. What would it be like, to slip into the fat little purse that lay under that voluminous belly like a well-kept secret? Heaven… pure heaven!

My cock jerked in my hand as she pulled her legs back, holding one of her knees in her hands so her pussy was spread wide apart, a meaty, moist treasure just waiting to be discovered. Her fingers plundered that trove, her thumb searching for the pearl and finding it, rubbing, rubbing. Oh God, I couldn't hold out anymore…

That's when she began to tremble as if her chaise were sitting on a fault line. She became her own earthquake, the thrust of her hips quivering her flesh. I cried out, watching the tremors move through her like shockwaves, her eyes closed, her mouth open in a delicious "O" of pleasure. My cock erupted in my hand, its own geyser, spewing thick white cum onto the glass. Then I experienced my own after shocks, leaning my forehead against the window and closing my eyes in the final sweet agony of release.

And then I heard the dog. The little Yorkie was at it again! When I opened my eyes, I saw, to my horror, that the little yipper was yapping at me! And my busty neighbor, alerted to my presence, had covered herself with a towel and was beating a hasty retreat into the house.

With a repentant groan, I quickly grabbed my own towel, wiping the evidence from the window and shutting the curtain again, hoping that the day's irony wasn't going to end, instead of in my calling the police on a yapping Yorkie, in my neighbor calling the police about a peeping Tom!

Vagina Monologue

My Dear, Poor, Sweet Muffin,

I know I should apologize for the rather rough treatment you received last night.

Yes, I know, I know, it was me begging for more. And it was my idea to stand up and bend over the chair, which put him at that deliciously deep angle. I couldn't help it.

He's got such a way with fucking me from behind like that, giving it to me with such perfect rhythm and timing, and rubbing your little clit to boot!

You have to admit, Little Miss Muff, you were more than wet enough to pick up any slack. Or so I thought.

Honest, I swear, honey, I had no idea we were going to wake up so sore this morning. If I had… well… I probably would have stopped. Okay, maybe not stopped exactly. But at least asked for a little less. Well, maybe not less… It's just, at the time, I really wasn't thinking about the possible consequences of asking for more. Yes, yes, I know it was me begging for it: "Harder, yes, please, baby, come on, harder, harder!" I admit, I didn't consider your soft, sensitive spots at the time.

What do you mean why? Um, sweetheart… you were there. You were the one quivering with lust, all slippery wet and sucking at his cock like a little mouth. If your

"mouth" hadn't been so full, you would have been saying just what I did: "Please, God, don't stop, fuck me harder!" Oh don't give me that, you know you liked it.

What do you mean how do I know? I'm pretty intimately connected with what you like. And so is he. You know you love the way he slides his cock up and down that slippery slit of yours before sinking deep inside. And if I remember correctly, you weren't complaining at the time. That sweet wetness coating my thighs was a dead give away that you were enjoying it… and God, so was I! The incredible pounding he gave us, the way those big fingers found the little nub of your clit and rubbed it until…

Okay, so you're a little raw. Yes, I know it was all that rubbing. And pounding.

And rubbing. God… I've got goose bumps just thinking about it. Okay, I know, I'm sorry, sweetie. Just because you've had that throbbing ache all day long and the bumpy ride down the dirt roads this afternoon on the way to the to the market weren't any fun…

wasn't it worth it? I mean, really. Wasn't it?

Remember how he grabbed my hips and shoved himself so deep into you that the whole bed threatened to collapse? That was before the chair, if you remember. Yes, I said it was my idea. You didn't think it was a bad one at the time, you know. You like it, too. I know you do, the way you spasm and swell at just the thought of his cock drilling into us like that… and you know I just love that angle, being able to hold onto the arms of the chair, arch my back, give him all of me, give him all of you…

And oh God, that was good… remember?