En Vacances Part 6: Fucktoy Fucked 1
The air, trapped in the unventilated bedroom, sticks to my skin causing tiny droplets of sweat to seep through my porous epidermis to coat my body in a fine film. My large starring pupils are following Anita’s descent as she lowers herself onto her haunches between Grant and my widespread thighs. Grant’s breath plays hotly about my neck, liquid pools beneath his hands as they grip tightly at my waist and on the underside of my thighs where our sticky flesh conjoins.
A bead of sweat breaks free of the slippery skin between our legs and starts trickling its way down my calf towards my aching ankle and my flesh tingles with every millimetre of its progression.
I am sensation, nothing more; barely a cognitive thought in my befuddled brain, everything reduced to my primal senses; the aroma of my dribbling sex thick in my nose, the sound of Grant’s heavy resonating in my ears, the taste of my ejaculant and cum mixing amongst the pool of saliva in my mouth, the sight of Anita’s auburn curled head between my thighs and the touch of her breath as it teases my naked pubis and swollen clitoris.
“Very pretty.”
Anita’s words cause havoc as her breath assaults my excessively sensitised skin, the vibrations amplified within the pulsating folds of my quivering sex. Juices fill my empty void, gurgle about Grant’s cockhead as it waits expectantly at my entrance and slide down his stiff throbbing muscle to join the growing dampness of my excitement that soaks his pubic hair.
There is one thought implanted in my overheated brain, and as Anita’s breath teases and tempts me into driving my dribbling pussy down onto Grant’s thick cock, I grasp hold and cling to it with every aching sinew of my spread and lust addled body.
“I want to be a perfect plaything. A favourite fucktoy. A good girl.”
So, despite all the temptation, despite the endorphins rushing through my shaking flesh, despite the subtle but noticeable movement of the tip of Grant’s cock as it slides ever so slightly back and forth between my engorged labia, despite the plaintive cries of my stiff nipples begging for a touch, despite my shaking legs and aching ankles, despite the thickness of the air that I’m having problems sucking into my lungs, and despite Anita’s very naughty breath as it vibrates about my shivering clitoris; despite all this, I resist and hold myself unfilled and unfulfilled, mounted on and ready to be impaled by Grant’s lovely thick cock.
“Good girl.”
The words are almost too much, sending me spiralling dangerously close to that dark place where lust consumes everything and all control is lost. Yet still I hold myself prettily upright and with reddening skin and raggedy breath await my release.
Anita’s mouth moves on; her breath departing my pubis to sink down beneath me. A grunt of pleasure escapes Grant’s mouth and his groin wriggles expectantly causing soft, squelching sounds to escape my pussy as his cockhead slaps itself gently against my wet flesh. I am looking down; watching Anita’s face disappear until all that remains visible is her loosely curled hair as it cascades across her broad shoulders and tickles itself against the inside of my thighs.
It is her mouth I wish to see; the pale pinkness of her tongue as it slides about Grant’s cum laden balls, the snail trail dampness that it leaves in its wake, her saliva glistening trapped amongst his thick pubic hair.
I can hear her slurping as she opens her full lips to reveal sharp teeth and the warm, welcoming, wetness of her mouth, as she sucks Grant’s softly throbbing, squidgy sacs of yummy, gooey, sticky, creamy, hot semen deep into her, as her tongue swirls around his soft plums, as she cleans his dirty flesh of every last molecule of dead skin and liquid secretions.
Grant is most definitely not a good girl like me; as Anita suckles, his fingers squeeze about my waist, his breathing becomes more rapid and his groin starts rocking in time to the inhalation and exhalation of the air from his lungs. It isn’t much; an inch at most, but perched as I am atop his cockhead, every tiny thrust pushes him between my patiently waiting lips and into the dripping wetness of my vaginal canal.
I close my eyes and try to focus on my own breathing; my mouth falling open, hot air filtering back and forth across my wet tongue, saliva pooling against my bottom lip before flooding across this quivering barrier to trickle down my chin. Beneath me the sounds of Anita’s busy mouth has been complemented by the gentle squelching of Grant’s engorged, purple cockhead sliding in and out of my cum soaked, orgasming pussy.
I am cumming endlessly now. I don’t know how it is for you, but this is how it is for me. At some point I started and already that moment is lost in the depths of my memory. Certainly I was already cumming when Anita mounted her plaything on Grant’s stiff cock and … In fact it is hard to remember a single second when my pussy hasn’t been pulsing ecstatically since Anita watched my busy fingers fuck my needy, sloppy, wetness by the pool … and once I start, I really don’t stop; I just pulse and throb and dribble happily until someone or something drives me through spiralling ecstasy to the next crescendo.
Which is where Grant’s cock, with its subtle caresses on the puffy flesh of my vaginal entrance, is now leading me.
Anita’s hair moves; drifting up my thigh before settling against my quivering pubis as her mouth leaves Grant’s well-sucked, glistening balls and her tongue starts attending to his throbbing shaft; a muscle that is sticky with all the naughty cum mess that my lightly fucked pussy has dribbled down it. With every flick of her tongue I feel Grant quiver inside me, his cock still sliding with miniature thrusts between my legs, his breathing now full of unintelligible grunts.
I can feel Anita’s upward progress transmitted to me through the steady creep of her teasing hair up the slight swell of my stomach. A barely audible mew of pleasure escapes my slack lips at the knowledge that her mouth is full, not with Grant’s sweet cock, but with my wanton pussy’s hot, sticky juices; that it is me that she is savouring as she slides her way up and around the veined muscle that separates us.
I want … I want … I want so much, but still I am the perfect plaything, the good girl, the favourite fucktoy. Even as Grant’s cock splits my beautifully naked, shaven peach, even as his tempo accelerates, even as he fills me yet deeper with every thrust, even as my pussy muscles clench around his thickness, even as he invades my most private place, even as Anita’s tongue slides up his still cum soaked length, even as her tongue tip explores along both sides of my cock-split vulva, even as she drifts up and around my exposed, pouting clitoris and Grant pushes every last millimetre of his throbbing muscle into the wonderfully orgasmic wetness between my splayed legs … throughout all this, despite the ascending crescendo of pleasure emanating from my fucked and teased pussy, I remain quivering and cumming poised as I’ve been positioned with my legs shaking uncontrollably and my ankles screaming for mercy, determined to be a good girl.
And then, Anita’s tongue finds my clitoris.
How can I find the words in the finite lexicon of the English Language to explain? How can I possibly convey the unbridled intensity of that moment with my oh so limited vocabulary? Should I string all those prettily descriptive words together in the hope that if I write enough of them you might be able to comprehend the absolute, total, mind-blowing ecstasy of the first touch of Anita’s tongue across my wildly pulsating clitoral nub? Or perhaps I could seek refuge in a generalisation; declare myself lost amongst the physical thrusting as Grant’s cock plunders deep amongst my wildly spasming pussy muscles?