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Pearlie released my hands and placed her hands down to her damp mound and spread herself wide.
“See my rosebud…touch it lightly with your tongue,” she said as she looked down at me. “You’re making me feel good, Freddie.”
Without thinking, I cupped both of her full breasts, feeling their softness, soft as cotton. She started moving her hips, sliding her love nest across my face, as I flicked my tongue across her rosebud. I listened to her moan and groan and whimper as an uncontrollable lust built up in her. I couldn’t believe that this was me, making love to a woman in this way…and liking it.
“Baby, hold up for a second, let me turn around,” she said.
She turned her voluptuous body so that her sensual ass was over my face, and placed her mouth in a position directly over my hardness.
“Just relax, baby, and let Pearlie make you feel good.”
Believe me, I was in a strange new world, and I was liking it more and more.
I felt her hot breath on my swollen dick, then felt her warm tongue licking it up and down. Her fingernails lightly stroked the bottom of my balls, sending a delightful sensation throughout my trembling body. Wrapping my arms around her ample ass and pulling her wet, hairy love mound down to my seeking mouth, I slid my tongue into her warm tunnel. I was tasting the pussy of a woman for the first time…a woman I never knew before tonight. Then it happened. I felt my hardened dick sinking into her warm wet mouth. My whole body shook and trembled as she slowly sucked me in. I felt the rippling of her tongue as she took my whole shaft, nursing it, milking it. My nose was inhaling the scent of her hot pussy as my tongue thrust deeper into her tunnel. I could feel the walls of her pussy snatching at and clinching my probing tongue. This exchange of love lasted for a long while. We were both in our own world…nothing else existed. Pearlie released me just when I thought I was going to explode.
“Fred, I want you to fuck me…now…please,” she said as she rolled off me and lay on her back, spreading her full thighs. “Come on, baby, take me,” she hissed.
She pulled me on top of her hot moist body, settling me in her waiting nest. With no assistance, my love pole found her and sank deep into her quivering pussy. She hugged me hard as I pressed deeper into her. Burying our heads between the huge pillows, we kissed hungrily, growling and grunting. I felt her gripping my shaft hard with the trembling muscles of her tunnel.
I often fantasized, but never came close to thinking that fucking was like this…never dreamed it would suck at your soul. Oh, how I wanted this to last, never wanting it to end. I stroked and gave, she received and nursed. We merged into one, exchanging our energies, our hungers.
“Come, baby, give it up for Pearlie…give it up, sugar.”
Then I could feel it happening and she knew it, too. She locked her legs around mine as we pressed our bodies hard into each other. Thrusting my swollen dick deep into her, dead-poling…mixing our love juices…straining and pressing. Then she clamped down on my dick with her quivering pussy, and held me…and milked me till there was nothing left to milk…then she just nursed me gently…ever so gently. We both fell asleep…spent…satisfied.
Yes, I gave up my virginity and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m thankful it happened the way it did, and grateful for Pearlie, the woman who took it.
The Party
Robert Scott Adams
The Further Adventures of Carlotta and Miguel
Southern California, there’s nothing like it. More than anything else, the weather combined with the almost limitless scenic variety makes it understandable why thousands of people relocate there every year, and lifelong inhabitants steadfastly commit to spending their lives there even though the area may one day end up as an island.
That’s why, when the opportunity arose for Miguel and Carlotta to meet on the coast, specifically Los Angeles, Miguel jumped at the chance.
This trip would require that Miguel interview a trio of mixed-media artists from South America, Brazil, who were about to become the next big thing on the American scene. The trio of two men and one woman were alr
eady celebrated in all the major artistic centers in Europe, Canada, and most of South America. And they were recently featured in New York, Washington, D.C., and Chicago. But for all their triumphs they felt the west coast offered what they wanted: access to everything including movies and television. Their mixed-media collection ranged from architecture and paintings, to sculpture and design.
So as a result they planted the seeds of success all the way across America, planning to end in Los Angeles. In fact, they planned a huge reception in a renovated barn on Highway 101 somewhere between L.A. and San Francisco. This reception would feature paintings, furniture, and other examples of their talents. In fact, Angelo, one of the artists in the group, had redone the barn. This reception would give those in both the entertainment and artistic communities the opportunity to experience this unique trio.
So Miguel was to be one of the interviewers tasked with attending the reception and capturing the essence of this group on paper.
But at this moment Miguel was capturing a different type of essence. He and Carlotta were speeding up the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible Porsche. The warm ocean breeze circled throughout the open vehicle as it sped up the highway. The ocean crashed against the rocks below as the road narrowed on the way out of Malibu toward the north. The sun was about forty-five minutes from setting so it was still warm and visibility was good, good enough for Miguel to be able to see the road ahead and also see Carlotta’s head in his lap as she gave him one of the best blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.
This was one of Miguel’s most endearing fantasies, and Carlotta was making it a reality as she sucked loudly and fiercely as they neared their destination.
“Oh shit, baby, damn that’s great.” Even though he’d gotten blowjobs while driving before, it was never in a Porsche, going over seventy miles an hour.
They’d met in Los Angeles earlier that day. When Miguel came out of the baggage claim area at LAX, there she was in a champagne Porsche convertible. She was dressed in a beautiful black chiffon dress that showed off her beautiful semi-sweet-chocolate-looking skin. She was smiling broadly behind sunglasses. As he approached, she climbed out of the car. The dress was short and showed off her amazing legs. And she was wearing the Charles David shoes, the ones that had the wide strap around the ankle. The ones that made her look like a really expensive L.A. call girl. He was dressed in a black raw silk and linen suit. The sun reflected off his bald head as he slowly walked toward her. He threw his bag in the back and before he could get around to the driver’s side to her, she had already come up to him. As she thrust the keys into his hand, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips against his as she thrust her tongue deep into his mouth. Their bodies crushed together as always, making her wet and him hard. It was a patented response that occurred every time they got together; whether they touched or not.
“Welcome to sunny California. Now I got you on my side of the world.” She pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear. “Damn, not only do you look good you smell good, too. You’re in big trouble now. Get in.”
“You look great,” he said, glancing over at her. As they headed out the Pacific Coast Highway, the smell of the ocean combined with the breeze created the perfect backdrop for the drive. He noticed how her dress had wandered up her thighs, which were encased in black sheer thigh-highs. To accommodate his view, she spread her thighs apart ever so slightly and the dress did its best to provide him with the view she knew he wanted. It was at that point that Carlotta began to play with him. As the car sped up the coast, she leaned over and planted small, yet sensual kisses on his neck, cheek, and lips. If he turned to get a better angle to kiss her, she would playfully slap him.
“Keep your eyes on the road.”
