hot as a cooked weenie. I'd been doing better with my warm-up than I'd figured.
But the minute I touched it he pulled away from me and hopped up to his feet. He was squealing a blue streak now. He was excited all right, but no telling yet what it was going to lead to. He might be working up to a fighting mood instead of loving, for all I knew.
I stood up too and reached out again to take his arm, but all of a sudden he came back toward me on his own and started pawing all over the front of me with big clumsy rough swipes. The palms of his hands were like dried-up leather raking over me but I loved the feeling of it against my hungry hide. When he brushed over my boobs the shivers ran all through me everywhere and made me weak in the knees. I only hoped I could hit his magic nerve-centers the way he was reaching mine without half trying.
I stopped in closer to him and pressed myself up tight against him and then he did what I'd been hoping for — he wrapped his arms all the way around me in a huge embrace and just about squeezed the breath out of me. Now I was in the dream condition I'd been having fantasy orgasms about — surrounded by hot hairy monkey on all sides.
He was whimpering now. Surprisingly he sounded exactly like the little monkey when he was in my bed, all riled up and raring to go. And Wimpy was ready — I could tell plain enough. His prick was up and rigid — pressing hard against my thigh.
I forced my hand down between us and took hold of that big thrusting tool. It seemed to be steaming with inner heat — I imagined it was burning my fingers through to the bone. But I clutched it tight and ground my belly against it and squashed my inflamed boobs against the rough hair-mattress of his chest.
His hands were rubbing and grabbing at my back now — all up and down — and then pulling at the soft, loose flesh of my ass. I was beyond all caution and restraint by that time. I was already close to orgasm — trembling all over — almost wanting him to crush me to a pulp — tear me apart — pound me silly with his impaling prick.
But I'd have to steer him into doing for me what I craved. This was a brand new experience for poor dull- witted Wimpy. He wasn't used to being accosted by brazen bare-ass females in this manner. Lady orangutans had more decency and sense of propriety. What does a poor respectable monkey do when a sex-mad slut comes up to him and grabs hold of his intimate parts?
Naturally he was a bit confused. Maybe he was afraid I was going to ask him for money.
So I tried to maneuver him into a position where I could slip his prick up into me and give him the idea of the game I had in mind by setting the example. I had sense enough not to pull him down on top of me — that would have squashed me flat. What I intended, if possible, was to get him down on his back so I could sit on his prick and ride him that way.
I don't know what it would have looked like to anybody watching us right then, standing there embracing — like we were doing a slow rumba together, or something — holding on each other and twitching our asses.
Finally, I managed to get him to lie down with me, reclining sort of side-by-side, and then I threw one leg up over his ass and nudged my crotch in as close to him as I could get and tried to work his prick up into position. I never worked so hard at anything in my life. He just couldn't seem to get the idea of what I had in mind. But I wasn't discouraged. I'd been in the sack before with human boys that were almost this dumb.
He obviously enjoyed having me grab his prick, and I gave it plenty of tugging and tickling to be sure he didn't go soft on me but there was no sign of that happening. If I only could get it inside me just an inch he might catch on, I figured, but every time I got his prick poking at the gates and just about to slip up inside, the son of a gun would pull back.
One funny thing — he'd discovered my boobs, which are quite it bit better than average-sized, and way beyond anything you'd ever find on a female monkey. He was squeezing them in his fingers and batting them back and forth, one tit against the other, like they were punching bags. But not real rough — just playfully — and it was a wild sensation. I always had liked to have men play with my boobs when they made it with me. It's the quickest way to get me hot, next to going right straight to cunt city. I was never much for all that slobbery kissing on the mouth that some guys like so much. I'd always tell them, 'Kiss my boobs if you want something to kiss.' Nipple- sucking will turn me on in a second. I was wishing then that old liver-lips Wimpy would give my boobs a lick with that big juicy mouth of his. But that could wait for a later session. First he'd have to learn to fuck — then suck.
All of a sudden without warning he shifted his ass and thrust his hips forward and bent his legs back, it seemed like. And there was his beautiful ramrod pecker then laid right out for me in the open air — free and clear. No more legs blocking my way to the weenie.
'Don't move — don't move,' I whispered, holding my breath. I wiggled my body forward and lifted up my leg and ever so slowly and carefully lowered my spread cunt down onto his up-thrust prick.
I was pretty well juiced-up by then in the pussy regions, just from the excitement of the anticipation, so once I got his big blunt pecker-head down onto the groove, it slipped up inside without too much hassle. He was big — bigger than any man I'd ever had in me — but I'd never had any, trouble taking in whatever was offered to me by any guy. I always liked to feel myself well-filled, I'm not ashamed to say. I like to know there's a prick in me, by God. If I'm going to get fucked, I want to feel fucked — right up to the hilt.
So that first time Wimpy went up inside me I was having little mini-orgasms every inch of the way. He wasn't helping a bit so far — just lying there blowing his hot wet monkey breath in my face and holding on loosely to one of my dangling boobs. But he didn't pull away from me, thank God. He held his prick right out for me free for the taking and let me do whatever I wanted with it. I grunted and wiggled my ass and hunched my hips and I could feel that fat black pickle of his beginning to make it up into me a little bit at a time — tickle tickle tickle all the way.
Then when it seemed as if it was stuffed clear up to my liver, I reached down and went to work on his dangling balls, rolling than in my hand and squeezing them together the same way he'd been squeezing my tits.
'Okay, man — let's pump,' I said to him.
And with that I began to rock my hips up and down over his cock, easing it in and out of me an inch or two either way. Just slow and easy at first to give him the idea and also to get it riding smooth and slick inside my cunt. Being jammed in there as tight is it was, it took a little bit of easy practice action to get it sliding properly before we started any hard pumping. I wanted this screw to last awhile, man. Start slow and build and build and build. What the hell — we had all night ahead of us. Neither of us was going anywhere.
As soon as I felt his prick moving slick and smooth in the groove I started to hump with more vigor, hoping he'd pick up the rhythm from me and join the dance. Sooner or later this had to give him some kind of an idea of what we were working towards.
And yes indeed! All of a sudden he quit blowing his breath on me and quit pulling on my boob, and I could feel a little shudder down where his belly was rubbing mine. Then WHAM! He squeezed my tit in his fist and gave it a yank like he was going to pull it clear off. I let out a shriek and belted him on the arm, and thank God he let go then and started to move his hips against me. In another second his prick began riding in and out like a pile-driver. He'd figured out the game we were playing all of a sudden and man — did he pick up on it fast! Pow pow pow — he hammered that prick up me — his belly punching against mine like a medicine ball — boom boom boom.
From that point on he just took over management of the whole operation himself. I didn't have to do a thing but hang on tight and ride with him. I let go of his testicles — which began slamming like tennis balls up under my ass — and just grabbed on to his huge hairy hide and took off in orbit. My whole body was rocking and shivering as if I was riding a bucking horse. He played rough, once you turned on his switches. Wham! Wham! Pow! Pow! His prick pounding my guts — his balls beating my ass — his belly bumping the breath out of me — boobs wallowing all over my chest — my head bobbing around like it was on a spring — my hair flying in all directions. Eee-yow! Man or monkey, this was the fuck of a thousand fantastic dreams — the fuck you never expect to experience outside your erotic fancies. I had always enjoyed a good rough ride, but this was the absolute end.
His prick was going up and down my chute a mile-a-minute and reaching up into my belly to places I wouldn't have thought possible. I couldn't even count the orgasms. They just started popping all up through my guts and shot through me in every direction until my whole body was just one big orgasm — arms, legs, everywhere — just EXPLODING! Even my head. This crazy bombed-out drunk feeling in my head that I'd never felt before in a fuck. Like I was freaked-out on some kind of goof-balls.
But the goof-ball was his prick in this case — driving me out of my cotton-picking mind.
Then all of a sudden he grabbed onto me hard and slammed me up against him. His arms wrapped around me and just squeezed. I thought it was the end of me. It felt like he was crushing my ribs — collapsing my chest — I couldn't breathe — my face was buried in a muzzle of hair. And there I was, suffocating — but exploding inside
