“Let's adjourn to the bedroom. I want this one to be good and thorough.”
I played along with her until we were in the hall, heading for the master bedroom. Then I began to grapple with her, getting my hand back inside her halter and flipping a breast free before she could protest herself.
It bobbed out like a shiny new penny, only this one's value had not been diminished by inflation. It was beautiful, soft and round, bronzed by her buff sunbathing, and the cherry at its tip winked in invitation. I winked back and shoved my thumb into the knob.
“Oh… Don…” she gasped, her head rolling at once. I always loved Amy for her low boiling point. “That's so wonderful. Thank goodness that dog brought us together this afternoon.”
“Screw that dog,” I muttered, watching the nipple grow firm until the little core of pink flesh popped out like a valve on a football.
I leaned my face down, kissing the nipple, and her hands were in my hair, pulling hard, and the sound of her dry swallowing was loud. When I looked up she was untying the knot at the middle of her back, so that the halter affair was falling away and both breasts were bobbing and smiling at me in greeting.
“Come on,” she pleaded, dragging me toward the bedroom and I came, willingly, feeling the hardening bulge inside my pants knotting like a stiffening rope.
We were in by the bed before she turned to me, running her hands across my shoulders while I returned to her breasts, helping the neglected mound catch up with its twin. Both were lifting, expanding and hardening by the second, sitting up like twin puppies anxious to be nursed… and I was anxious to play ball with my little friends.
While I hefted their weight in my palms, she was sliding her fingers inside my jacket, unbuttoning it and then snaking inside my shirt. Almost idly, she plucked at the hairs on my chest, knowing she was driving me out of my mind.
“Hey… I like that.”
“I know.”
“Do you like this?”
“You know damned well I do,” she purred, playing the role of a contented tabby.
I was pinching her nipples between my thumbs and fingers, squeezing gently and then harder until she began to wince. Then I'd let up until she told me with her-eyes that she was ready for more.
Through it all she was busy, too, removing my jacket and somehow folding it neatly over a chair-Amy could keep a house spick and span in the middle of a tornado funnel-and then jerking my shirt from the belt of my trousers. She unbuttoned it, her fingers trembling each time I'd give her nipples another turn of the screws, but she worked on with determination.
Soon she had me naked to the waist, just as she was, and together we massaged and kissed, me pecking at her breasts and sliding my mouth down to her belly, while she clung to my ears, guiding me to various targets of opportunity. Not one to be selfish, Amy from time to time pushed me away so she could nibble at my ears, drop down to my throat and then jerk at my chest hairs with her teeth. I reacted by allowing my nerves and muscles to do a little dance of pleasure, jigging this way and that to show their appreciation.
“Hey… you're good.”
“You too, tiger.”
I began to work at her hip, opening a fastener and then sliding a zipper, while she fumbled at my belt and then grasped the tab of my fly. Together we pulled and the zipping sound was far sweeter harmony than the Andrews Sisters could ever muster. We were open, her shorts peeling away from her hip, my pants beginning to sag.
She jerked at my hips and my pants fell to the carpet. She went for my shorts at once, working them down across my groin so that I was one inch away from being exposed all over the place. Fighting back, I rammed her shorts down to her knees and then rolled her panties after them, watching the sheer pink material cooperate beautifully as it gave up its skin hugging for the rest of the afternoon.
Then, with a few additional flicks of the wrist, we looked like a couple of jaybirds, every bit as naked but a lot more exciting.
I gazed the length of her great body, loving every inch of her tanned skin, her thin waist, her swelling hips and breasts, her legs that played their game straight. She smiled at me in the shadows of our room, her teeth a slash of white across her California face, and she tossed her head, removing a lock of hair from in front of one eye.
“Well?”
“Just fantastic, nothing more. They ought to cast you in bronze, wife, but not before I get through with you.”
“Yes. You must finish what you were doing first. They can put you on the pedestal with me, if they wish, but I've got to get what I'm after first.”
We went for our goodies together, me running my hands down the curve of her lower stomach and between her legs, feeling her stiff hairs play games with my fingers before they became heavy and soggy with her own increased lubrication. She managed to keep her knees from buckling long enough to reach around me and run her fingers down the crack of my buttocks until she was working her way through a forest of hairs. Then she was tickling the rear base of my gonads, starting a forest fire in my belly.
I could feel my load of sperm begin to build up like an army getting ready to charge down the slope on the enemy. My fingers dipped inside Amy long enough to trigger her and I could feel her convulsions increase.
With no further messing around, I tossed her down on the bed and she bounced attractively, all flopping breasts, waving hips and heaving belly. The total effect was of a complete woman, wanton with desire and eminently capable of living up to her full capabilities.
I crawled over her, giving her a chance to grasp my penis and pull it toward her vagina in a final gesture of pleasure and invitation, Then I was coming down, shoving hard, penetrating and shooting home with an ease born of many months of practice with the same wonderful woman.
We were lying together, relaxing in that final few seconds before the frenzy would be brought to a climax. She smiled, her eyes heavy-lidded, her entire appearance driving me out of my mind.
“Then it's all right?” she breathed, her lips brushing across mine like two dry sticks trying to start a forest fire.
“Is it all right?” I gasped. “Hell, yes, it's all right. It's perfect.”
“I mean about Alexander.”
“Screw Alexander.”
“No, I prefer you. Then we'll keep him?”
“You can keep a hundred pair of rabbits in the living room if you want,” I complained, “But please shut up and wrap those legs around my tormented body.”
She did and we pumped hard, driving ourselves to the brink and then beyond. Hemingway described it as making the earth move, but in our case, Amy and I managed to move the whole damned universe.
I began to come, my cock swelling and then erupting like a weathered cannon that was still full of fire. She arched her hips and took my full assault, not flinching, gurgling like a bottle baby all the while.
Presently my load was shot and, sweating like a trooper on the march in the desert, I fell against her, collapsing her arch. We lay quietly for some time before she stirred under me, her body also dripping.
“You're a nice man.”
“Thank you. Do you like me because I'm hung better than anyone else in town?”
“Not really, but there's that, too.”
“Why, then?”
She didn't answer and I stiffened.
“Don't tell me it's because of that damned dog.”
“All right, I won't, but it is.”
Thus, Alexander-all hundred dollars and fifty plus pounds of him-came into our lives, bringing Trudy with him You see, Alexander would need a sitter and, with the events that were to follow, I became a dog lover.
It all ties together. Amy couldn't get pregnant. Alexander was piped aboard to provide company, and Trudy followed on his heels as the sitter.
Get the point? I sure did… and fast.
