Jackson's Marvellous Melbourne: Part II - Hunting Prey

Disclaimer:

This story is a blend of factual and fictional elements. As such none of the events described here happened as directly as described, being either amalgamations or deconstructions of real events. People and places may have been changed, fictionalized or amalgamated to ensure better readability and avoid any potential embarassment.

Naturally this story being of a sexual nature is not intended (or allowed) for persons under the age of 18, or whatever the legal age of consent is in your country. Its possession or reading my even be entirely illegal in your country. 

If you have any comments, questions, flame or fan mail for me please mail the address at the bottom of the story. Enjoy.

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The fog in my head had not cleared by the time I reached home. Like some skipping DVD my mind kept repeating odd flashes of tonight's tryst out of order: the sight of Lucy taking my straining manhood into the wet confines of her mouth; our first passionate kisses; her looks of pure devilishness as she took me into her mouth. Every thought, somewhat painfully, raised my mast just a little bit higher. I would look away and absorb, briefly, the details of my surroundings and how perfect everything looked. Perfect in all its imperfections. Perfect in its partially illuminated glory. 

I showered and I was still ahaze, unable to close my eyes without imagining my first shared sexual experience. My mind raced with joy at both the physical pleasure I had enjoyed and the reflection of Lucy's lust.

My mind was still a mess in the morning as I dressed in my best going-out gear (a striped black shirt, partially faded jeans and my best casual shoes). I was at war with myself. Part of me sensed that the whole wingman scenario was a ruse and wanted to fuck Lucy senseless. At the very least, see and feel those pert little titties that teased the whole office from under her business shirts and to tear off her black work pants to discover what really covered her snatch. Another part of me anticipated playing the picking up game and feared failure with strange women. The last faction feared the worst, that Lucy would come to her senses and stop wanting to lay, or get others to lay, a small-dick man.

I drowned these thoughts by absent-mindedly throwing myself into my work that Friday. So much of what I did had to be redone but I didn't care; productivity wasn't the issue here, busyness was.

Everyone at our Friday team lunch was discussing their bonus slips. It was only then that I realized we were promised a nice little bonus and a corporate junket on the coast. After lunch I collected the three envelopes in my mailbox. I had distracted myself so completely that morning that I had missed my morning perve of Lucy filling mailboxes and the growing chatter about money. 

The first letter contained arrangements and directions for the company holiday, so I left it on the table to be consumed at a later time. I didn't much care for holidays, I wanted money. Now. Opening the second letter my heart skipped a beat: a fake cheque to the tune of $6000 and a letter stating that the amount on the cheque would be paid a week or so before Christmas. One can't sneeze at $6000.

Blood rushed to my head when I discovered the contents of the third envelope: two condom packets and a note which read, "You'll need these tonight big fella. Meet me at The Orient and Occident at 6.30pm tonight to begin our quest." Blood redirected itself from my head back to the rest of my body when I had stashed the contents into a drawer.

So she was serious about the whole pick-up mission after all. I felt overjoyed, disappointed and anxious all at once.

The minutes inched by as I half-heartedly concentrated on work. Each minute felt like distant highway markers that took forever to pass you before being replaced by another off in the distance. I cut my losses at about 3pm and headed off to The Well. Juri was also ready ensconced there, so I grabbed a few drinks and parked my butt. Unfortunately he wanted to regale me with his latest driving stories and updates on modifications for his car. At other times I would've engaged his fantasies of automotive nirvana but I wanted numbness not mental stimulation, so I drank my beer and then another and focussed on the cricket playing on the big screen.

Given some of the more random details I've been able to recall it seems rather odd that I can't recall who Australia were playing in that test match. Nothing really stood out for mind: Australia were on top and, as pathetic as the opposition seemed in comparison, I urged them on. Ahh that's better, more beer and the numbing effects of cheering on a losing team. 

Before I knew it six o'clock had swung around and news had replaced sport on the big screen. Juri bid me adieu, albeit a little embittered that I found staring at thirteen men in white rather more entertaining than him. I sauntered off to The Orient and Occident, grabbed another nip of alcohol and plonked myself at table with a good view of the assortment of TVs. The Orient and Occident had an olde-worlde air with a smattering of booths, tables and ample bar space. It was a little underpopulated for six-ish on a Friday. When I left The Well there was only standing space and to be heard you had to be pressed mouth-to-ear; here, while there were no tumbleweeds passing me by, I didn't have to wait for a table to become free and, had I wanted to, I could've easily heard my thoughts above the clinking of glasses and the background murmur of chatter.

Absorbed in trying to interpret the silent TV news, I jumped out of my skin when I received a little push in the back.

"My, you've changed your look today!" I greeted my assailant as she sat down.

"Whatever happened to hello?"

"It's just that I've never seen you wear anything other than black pants and a business shirt."

"Seems like somebody's been taking notice of me," she replied, raising her eyebrows. "Wanted to seem more like a successful business women. Keeping successful company only brings more success, I reckon." 

She looked successfully sexy in her black knee-length skirt and blue top, which wasn't too tight but hugged her around her breastage, serving to highlight their delightful perkiness. This was definitely the most "classically" sexy I'd seen her but somehow it served to diffused the hope I'd desired of banging her. All my fantasies involving Lucy had been built around ripping the buttons off her business shirt and peeling off her black pants to discover what lay beneath. Her choice of a different outfit had just quashed that.

We ordered bar food, she insisted that I needed its alcohol absorbtion properties because our quest would involve some drinking and that I would definitely need to get it up at the end of the night.

"Actually, rather perversely, I think alcohol helped my stamina last night," I blurted out to fill in a silence that had crept into our discussion on revisions to her plan of attack.

"That may be down to my lack of practice," she laughed.

"Eh? You seemed pretty darn good to me ..."

"It's been ages since I've been able to go down on Dan. Actually, I think he's been cheating on me. We used to fuck like animals on heat. All different places, all different positions, all night long. Now he just services me when I get too horny. He does me hard and fast, gets off and thinks he's done his job," she replied, scrunching her face up a little.

"Oh." She caught me off guard again. It's funny but in her time at our company (admittedly about only about a month) I'd never seen her in anything bar pants and a business shirt (before tonight, that is) but she was incredibly frank about sex. Indeed speak to her normally and you'd never suspect that she'd use phrases like "fuck like animals on heat."

"Actually, I had it in my mind for ages that we'd end up in the sack but I wasn't sure whether you were into me."

"Are you kidding?" is what I wanted to say but I just looked at her as I piled some more food into my mouth. God knows I wanted nothing more than for her to educate me further in the world of carnal delights. To see and feel her pert breasts. To plunge my hard one into her tight, dripping pussy. But I was mute and just ate. Maybe I feared this was a joke or some elaborate ruse to catch me out.

"So I'm going to get you some and then, maybe, get me some too tonight," she finally said, smiling wanly, after I'd had a few more bitefuls. We finished up dinner and headed out to hit some of Melbourne's quietier, more loungey establishments.

At every joint, we'd grab a drink from the bar, find a spot to stand or sit and scope out any potential targets. I'd pick one, then we'd wait patiently for one of their party to head to the bar upon which Lucy would quickly finish off her drink and queue for the bar behind them, striking up a conversation in the process, usually about drink recommendations or praising/dissing our current establishment, or some such. When they were in the process of ordering I'd saunter off to the men's room for about five minutes; this was, naturally, a rather trying experience. I'd return to find our seats or space taken and, lo and behold, Lucy talking to her new friends. I'd then join in, introduce myself and try to talk to my target. Sometimes she'd be too engrossed in other conversation, other times I'd get to her and we'd engage in the normal information dump: how's it going; what's your name, mine's ...; so what do you do for a living; etc.

Sometimes our conversation would get further but there never seemed to be any real chemistry and I couldn't create any. So it was, with some disappointment, that we retired to an all-night cafe sometime after midnight.

"You picked some nice looking asian honeys tonight," Lucy said licking some coffee froth from her upper lip.

"Why, thanks."

"So what happened to the dyed-hair one at Underground?"

"I don't know, I don't think she was that in to me," I stammered.

"Oh don't give me that! You two were laughing quite a bit, she even gave you a playful push or two too."

"Maybe she did." Pause. "How on earth did you see those two little shoves? Weren't you engrossed in conversation?"

"Multi-tasking, babe. Multi-tasking."

"Anyway, she said she'd just broken up with her boyfriend..."

"What the hell? That's perfect then!" she interjected.

"Well, I didn't want a rebound shag."

"Babe, a shag's a shag. And frankly some of the best sex I've had has been on the rebound."

"The last thing I want is a shag just because she's, you know, dropped her standards..."

"How are you to know whether she's dropped her standards or whether she really digs you?" Pause. "I think she really digged you. Honest."

"Well, I don't think I would've measured up anyway..."

"Argh! Stop saying that shit. You gotta have more confidence in yourself. How hard is it to get an erection, then put cock into pussy? Slow, fast, slow, fast, kiss, suck on nipple ... it's not terribly difficult you know. You just got to lose yourself in the moment..." 

Her voice was more than audible to adjoining tables, so I interjected, "but there's more to it than just that, especially when you have to compensate for ..." I paused, then whispered, "a lack of length."

"Yeah sure, of course there is," her voice adjusting to a slightly more suitable level. "But length isn't the be all and end all of sex. Dan's got an eight-inch-plus cock," she said, approximating eight inches with her index fingers, "but it does nothing for me now because he just wants to get off in world-record time."

I could feel, if not see, other tables looking at us. "Please Luce, I think everybody else can hear our conversation," I said in a voice above a whisper. "And anyway I think you've proved my point..."

"No you haven't because the point is you need some experience! You'll learn more techniques with more experience. So what if you have a few dud roots along the way? It's part of learning experience. And my God what's-her-name seemed like she would've been some learning experience!"

Her voice had risen again so I shot her a look and then glanced around at some of the other tables, who were clearly trying to ignore our conversation now.

"Sorry babe. I don't mean to embarass you but I think it's the truth." She then grabbed her purse and plonked down a tenner on the table. "C'mon, let's end this night on a high. I'm going to show you one of Melbourne's greatest sights." Lucy grabbed my hand and led me out of the cafe.

"But what about our half drunken coffees?"

"Don't worry about that. This sight will be as a good as those coffees were bad," she said in a level of voice meant to be heard by the staff as we headed for the exit.

She led us back to our office building but instead of heading to our floor, she pressed the button for the top floor.

"How on earth did you get access to the top floor?"

"Don't know, I suspect I've always had it. You know what's up there, right?"

"Yeah, Old Man Donovan's office and a boardroom, I believe."

"Spot on. Donovan interviewed me in his office up there."

"Strange..." Ding. And the doors slid open. This seemed like any other floor: four lift doors, an emergency exit and toilets. We went to the right, Lucy swiped in and we were in a tee-shaped corridor with swipe doors at each point of the tee. We headed for the rightmost. Once through we were in a good sized reception area with a round table strewn with magazines flanked by two two-seat sofas. There was a large smoked glass pane running almost the entire right flank of the reception area. She beckoned me into this room.

I stood in the doorway gobsmacked. Taller than our surrounding buildings, the boardroom offered a brilliant view of Melbourne, albeit mainly of buildings. We could see the Rialto and, behind it, glimpses of the Yarra. Poking out behind another building was Docklands Stadium (now Telstra Dome). Just partially visible was the West Gate Bridge. Lucy beckoned for me to join her by the window, so I picked up my jaw and stood beside her. There were a number of much smaller buildings around us and I gazed at their partially lit rooftops. I now looked for lit windows in other high-rise buildings, to see what was going on inside. Nothing much. Oh! One person working, rather forlornly I imagined, at his desk. Oh! Two cleaners working a floor in another building. It all seemed to be rather quiet this Friday night in Melbourne.

"Come on, you gotta check out Donovan's office." 

Standing at the door to his office Lucy whipped out her bunch of keys and, rather theatrically, held one up. "I used to think this key only locked the mailroom, but surprisingly it's a superkey for our company. Opens doors to all the offices and meeting rooms!" She stuck the key in, shooting me a sly stare, then partially stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth in mock effort as she turned the key and pushed the door open. This girl sure knew how to vamp it up.

"Oooh, wow," I gawped.

"Admire the view. I gotta go to the little girls' room."

I stepped up to the window pane and glimpsed parts of the familar Flinders Street Station. Bored with that I scanned the rooftops and buildings around us for signs of activity. Alas, not much more than from boardroom: just a few cleaners and a few sad sacks in their offices. 

"So whaddya think?"

"Impressive. I still like the view from the boardroom better," I said. "It's more expansive."

"There's one thing you'll only see in here though."

"What's that?" I enquired, scanning the vista for any detail I might have missed.

"Well for that, you'll have to repay me for last night," she whispered straight into my right ear. I could feel her body heat radiating close to me as her face grazed my shoulder. In own fell swoop she brought our bodies together in a hug and began kissing and licking my ear and neck. All I could hear was the throbbing of my head, partially from the alcohol my body was still absorbing but also from my increasing heart rate. 

"How am I to do that?" I asked, turning slightly to glance at her before catching our faint relection in the window.

"A repayment in kind would suffice," she whispered as she lowered one hand to my crotch and, through my jeans, began to pay my little man some attention. Kissing my neck some more so fingered my steadily rising mast from base to tip over and over. Turning to her, she grabbed my hands and led me to the edge of the boss' desk.

"What about some light? I'd like to see where I'm going ..." This I said in the hope that'd she break from me, turn the light on and dampen the mood somewhat.

"Ok." Letting go of one hand she sat herself on the right of the desk. The light gradually increased. In the rising mood lighting I could see her fiddling with something under the table. "There's a PA call button down here and a light fader." Seeing my raised eyebrow she added, "I once took Dan up here to fuck and found this by accident." Smirking, she pulled us together again. 

As it was, one of her legs was between my legs, so she hooked my right leg with both of hers. I think from this moment I was committed to repaying my "debt," although the logistics of eating pussy was a mystery to me. Indeed I was sure I'd find the taste of pussy abhorrent. Never been much of a cat fan myself (boom tish). Nonetheless I grabbed her face and kissed her deeply and passionately. 

Breaking our oral entanglement I ran my hands up and down her sides, stopping each time to cup her breasts. Staring lustfully at her I couldn't believe that I stood at the precipuce of enacting such a seemingly wild fantasy. And all at her behest. Even at this wonderous moment, I couldn't help but wonder whether I was being used as a revenge fuck.

Lucy banished these thoughts to the deepest recesses of my mind by slowly pulling her top off. First the white of her stomach and navel, then her chest and then her tight, lacy white bra. Gently, at first, I began massaging her globes through her bra. Her mammaries were so soft and malleable, like some magic dough with hard nubs at the end.

"Wait. I think you want the full the experience," she said unclasping her bra. Removing them I finally saw what I had long speculated about. They were small but ever so alluringly pert. The areolae seemed to pinch out her mammories, giving them that pertness, and weren't huge but rather beautifully proportioned. They fit beautifully into my smallish hand and she gave me a small sigh of approval as I massaged them, giving her nipples a tweak or two.

I stooped a little and began to suck and lick her right nipple and breast like some demented, over-sized baby. Mmm, she moaned in approval. My mouth proceeded across her cleavage in a procession of feather-kisses and licks before fastening on her left breast; this illicited another moan or two. All the while my free hand ranged her sides and the small of her back.

"Mmm. Now do the same to my pussy. Mmm," Lucy half-commanded as she bucked a little and began rubbing my member. I raised my index finger to her lips to silence her but she drew it in her mouth and began licking and sucking it like a lollipop. Or like my lollipop, even.

She lent back a little as my mouth progressed langerously down her white-skinned stomach to her navel. When I reached her skirt I stopped and stood upright. "You've got to stop fingering me ... I might just explode," I pleaded. She ignored by protestation and gave me a wicked little smile instead. I stopped her by grabbing her fingering hand. I stepped out from between her legs and spread them as far apart as her skirt would allow. My hands then moved from her knees up her inner thigh, crawling under her skirt, feeling her skin. She stood up abruptly, pushing me backwards slighty then drew us together again by the base of my back. We kissed briefly before she started unzipping her skirt. With a little wriggle and a push the skirt dropped to the floor. It looked like a puddle at her feet, but in one fluid motion she stepped aside, kicked the skirt clear and reassumed her old position. Raising my eyes from her heels she stood dressed before me clad only in her frilly white g-string. 

I'd seen all her curves before, I was well used to her slightly chubby face, tied back hair, pert breasts, narrowing waist and more fullsome hips, but I'd never seen them like this. Not this sparingly clad. Well in my mind it had been, but all the details had been conjecture then. I'd now felt her skin, suckled on her breast, flicked her nipples and now she was mere inches away wanting me (no, beckoning me) to invade the most private part of her physicality. Needless to say, I froze in shock as I attempted to comprehend this moment. 

I'm not sure whether my mouth was agape but she broke me out of my reverie by pulling me by the shirt as she sat herself on the table and kissed me again. "Now ..." kiss " get that tongue ..." kiss "into action ..." kiss "on my other lips." For one innocent looking girl she sure did know how to talk dirty. Still fearing that I'd gag on the taste of pussy I turned my attention to her breasts: fondling one, sucking on the other. They looked like perfect little chocolate drops with upturned tips. White chocolate drops. With pink tips. I ran my tongue around as if stuck going around a roundabout. I sucked them as if trying to get to the dregs through a straw. She cooed a little. I hopped off the roundabout and headed toward the navel, via clevage valley, before arriving at the string of the g-string. Below it was a frilly, partially see-through vee of material. Under that was white skin with little tufts of brown hair poking through and darkness below. I looked up, hopefully, looking for guidance and advice; she merely raised her eyebrows. Being so close to her sex I could smell her musk. With my right index finger I drew a line from the base of the triangle down through the partially poking through patch of hairs to the bumps and ridges of her love box, stopping when I could feel the dampness. I guess I ran over her clit on the way through for she involuntarily raised her pelvis towards me. Looking up again she brought her tongue to her upper lip. Drawing out the inevitable I kissed the inside of her left knee, slowing moving up her thigh while pushing and massaging her other thigh. 

Finally my mouth was near the nexus of white material, which served to partially hide my destination. Before pulling down her last vestige of modesty, I licked where I supposed her pussy lips hid. The taste was not quite like anything I'd ever experienced before: a little sweet and a little salty. It was the musk more than anything else that left me wanting more though. She raised her hips off the table as I pulled and tugged and pulled some more to finally shed her last piece of clothing. Unless, of course, you count shoes as clothing. Kneeling down (in hindsight I would tell her it felt like worshipping at a temple) I got my first close up inspection of a real-life, non-celluoid vagina. Unlike the porn variety pussy I was used to seeing there was hair here: a little trapezoid of thin, short, curly light brown hair, acting like a sign board advertizing the wares below, with a sprinkling of even lighter, curlier hairs on her outer lips. Her skin around her slit was a wrinkly brown. A small hillock descending into a soft valley surrounded her slit, marked by lightly protruding frizzly lips, more marked at the top than the bottom. It was all capped off by a little hood, like a little anorak hood, just poking out from her light pubic hairs.

"I appreciate this your first real pussy but this cat needs a lickin'!" God, if I wasn't so nervous and daunted I'd have boned her right there and then, but instead I gave said cat a tentative lick from bottom to top. She was definitely wet and the taste was stronger than before: sweeter, saltier and still quite unfathomably different. Uncertain, I feathered some wet smoochy kisses on her outer mound, feeling the wrinkly skin under my tongue, as well as those wispy, curly hairs nearer her valley. I smooched one side and explored the other with my index finger. Slowly my mouth worked its way back to ground zero and licked a little more ravenously, up and down, and side to side.  She bucked a little and I looked up to see an approving smile. I became a little more adventurous and widened her valley with my hands until I could a little bit of pink then probed my fumbling tongue in. The texture was smoother and wetter, the taste turned up a notch and the smell truly intoxicating. I was now fully into this pussy eating thing: deeper probes, almost like french-kissing her pussy; shallow licks of her valley and lips; playing with her outer mound and caressing her outer thighs. For her part, Lucy seemed to be enjoying my virginal attempt at cunnilingus: a low moan, a coo, the odd thrust of hip; one hand, two hands, three hands running through my hair. Giving her pussy a quick lick, I looked up, pausing for breath. Luce bit her lower lip, compressing the assurance of a million soothing words, and the scripts of a million pornos (admittedly not a lengthly tome by any stretch of the imagination), into one lust-filled look. To wit, I replied by sucking on her clitoral hood. Unwittingly I'd saved the best for last, kinda like dessert. She bucked like she was on a rodeo mount, pushed my face against her nether region so that even if I had wanted to stop, I couldn't. She swore like she'd been living in North Queensland all her life. Getting into the moment, I channelled my inner porn star and stuck my finger inside her crevasse. It was smooth, like I had tasted, and warm and rippling slightly. My index finger was buried to the hilt and juices ran down my palm and my arm. Her cavern seemed to go on for ever. At least my finger couldn't reach her backboard, so I turned it around ninety degrees, crooked it and felt her pussy walls as I slowly fingered her. I did this to savour her inner texture but happily drew a few oh-my-Gods from her. I turned my finger through another ninety degrees to feel the bottom of her pussy and gained a gutteral moan. Lastly, I turned my finger back 180 degrees and felt the ceiling, as I reached as far as I could she let out a "sweet Jesus, dear fuck!" With my finger in her hole, I looked up and saw her cute, mousy features contorted in a feeling of pleasure only a female could adaquately describe. 

"I want you to fuck me now," she uttered as her head tilted from staring at the ceiling to me. 

"But you haven't..."

"I wanted your hard cock in me now."

"But I haven't got any ... condoms," I protested.

"Shssh, Jacky," she said, putting her finger to my lips. "There are some in my bag."

"But I won't be to fit in ..."

She patted her finger against my lips and said, "Shshh. I need your cock. Now."

I stood and rummaged through her bag as she skilfully unbuttoned my shirt. She'd begun to run her hands over my hairless chest before I questioned her about the exact location of said condoms.

"Jesus, do I have to do everything myself?" she replied with mock annoyance, grabbing her handbag off me. "See, here, in the inner zip." Yep, sure, and there it was. She pushed me back, dropped to a crouching tiger position and managed to unbuckle my belt, unbutton my jeans and free my dragon quicker than I could've when totally in control of my faculties. My little man pointed straight at her cute little face. "Hi, remember me from last night?" she asked, smiling, before licking the base of my semi-erect shaft from circumcision base to tip. He saltued in response. 

"I see he does," she said, cocking her eyebrows and looking up at his owner, before she began performing oral corkscrews. Her hair flew about as she slid her mouth up and down my pole, turning her head from side to side. Somehow she was turning some poorly scripted porn into reality. Before I could finish this thought, she stopped.

"I think he's ready for his mission now," Lucy said sternly, looking at my glistening rod in the half-light, while fumbling for the condom packet. She liberated it and rolled it down said flagpole. If not for the wonders of alcohol, I would've sprayed my jism right then.

She reparked herself on the edge of our boss' table, reclined slightly, resting on her elbows and spreading her legs outwards and upwards. Staring straight into my eyes, once they'd wandered back up from her snatch, she commanded, "Now fuck me."

I grabbed my latex covered tool and pointed it straight at the mouth of her love hole. My rubbered head stood pressing at her lips, which guarded the gate to my future as a non-virgin. I could feel Lucy's heat at the point where out bodies touched.

"I can't believe I'm..." I uttered to her breasts before she suddenly grabbed my buttcheeks and pushed me in. Her flesh now enveloped a small part of me; it was warm and wet and tight. It pulsed and twitched ever so slightly.

"Oh. My God," I breathed as I stared at our enmashed nether regions. My cock had disappeared and my black scrub had run roughshod over her light brown bush. 

"Don't just stand there gawking. Fuck me."

I withdrew partially, still staring at our sex, then pushed back in, gently. Her body moved slighty further up the desk at my prod. 

"Mmm," she growled. I looked at my lover's face for the first time since our physical union; it spoke of lust begging to be fulfilled and a quiet impatience. "More, please, sir."

I withdrew again before pushing back in. Again her body slithered a few more centimetres up the desk; I was canted a wierd angle. I grabbed the top of her thighs and pulled back towards the desk's edge; holding on I began to fuck her slowly. It felt devine. She felt devine. Wacking off was almost always fun but utterly predictable and dry until those last wet moments; five minute thunder to sate my animal urges. Last night's blowjob was the Premier League compared to that; unpredictable, hot, wet and totally out of my control. This, I later surmised, was the Champions League; hot, wet and probably what the gods had in mind when they devised human sex. 

Everytime I looked into her eyes she gave me a coo and moan of both lust and encouragement. Everytime I gazed at the sight of her little chocolate drop breasts rising and falling as I pushed and parried her pussy I was filled with a little bit more lust and slowly my tempo rose to drive her titty oscilations higher. I grew bolder, withdrawing my cock all the way so that her pussy lips had the merest of grips on my head before thrusting back in as far I could, as she uttered more lust-laden carnal urgings. "Harder." "Faster." "Mmm fuck me good." "Oh God, you feel so good in me." Sometimes I'd withdraw too far and end up running my cock up her slit and against her clit. There'd then be lull in our action as I'd fumbled with my little man; getting him to point almost straight ahead for the damp, tropical rainforest of her pussy, instead of pointing to the heavens. Everytime this happened she'd beseech of me to get him back inside.

Stooping to add some tongue and saliva interaction to our cock and pussy action, her moans grew louder and more intense. "Oh God, that's the spot."

As we fucked and kissed and slobbered and moaned and panted, I felt the pressure rising inside of me. The inevitable was soon about to happen.

"Oh God I think I'm going to cum," I blurted as I unlocked our lips and slowed the pace back a crawl. Not only could I feel the pressure inside of me but her lovebox seemed wetter, more twitchy and pulsating than the last I took stock.

"I want your cum inside me. Cum hard. Give it all to me," she implored into my face, catching my outstroke with another grab and shove of my buttocks. 

I resumed the cock and pussy duel at a quicker tempo and re-established our oral connection. God, she knew how to turn all my buttons and smash all my senses. I quickened and slowed erractically as the pressure got to near its zenith and then it came. I came. Our mouths disengaged and I let out a series of "ohhhs" and "uhhhs" and "urrghs" or stuff to that effect. I fell on top of her, pressing chest to chest, as my cock let go of stream after stream of cum. Finally my cock was truly wet, as opposed to feeling wet, and my energy disappeared off into the ether.

As mental consciousness resumed after my mental haywire, I craned my neck and looked at Lucy. "I can't believe we just did that. That was incredible," I breathed into her face. We engaged in a quick oral joust before she lay her head on the table.

"You felt so good inside me." I could feel her squishy mammaries and hard nipples press into my chest as she spoke. "Your cock is so ramrod straight it just feels incredible." Somehow I managed to blush an even deeper shade of pink. "And at certain angles it just hits the spot."

I revelled in our post-coital bliss, kissing her shoulder, with my ego suitably massaged.

"Mmm," she cooed, pushing me off her. "I don't want to ruin this moment for you but I think you better get your cock out of me before we undo the good work of Mr. Condom."

I withdrew, hands still clinging to her thighs, my little man pointing out straight and swamped by the, now, oversized condom. It was cum-filled, white and glistening with pussy juice. I surveyed my deflowerer: she was lying on our boss' desk, panting, legs held up and sweating. This wasn't quite like what I had hoped for in my fantasies, but it was certainly better.

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