She raised the belt and lashed it across the rosy cheeks of my ass. I squealed with sharp, excruciating pleasure and felt my cock stiffen even harder. She raised it again and whacked me again, then moved her lashing strokes up my back and down again to the backs of my thighs.
I looked up into her eyes. They glowed with a fierce delight at the pain she was inflicting and the-pleasure she was providing. When she returned my gaze for a moment and saw how delirious with excitement I was, another gleam came into her eyes and she grabbed the leather end of the belt, dangling the heavy buckle between my legs.
“You like that, huh?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“See how this feels.”
She raised the buckle and let it fly down into the meat of my ass. It hurt. I squealed and jumped up, wresting the belt from her and enclosing her in a bear hug from behind. With my hands I wrapped the belt around her waist, enclosing her arms in it, and wrenched it tight, pulling it far enough to close the belt around her. It pulled her arms and shoulders back as far as they could go, severely cinching her waist and making her breasts stick out so blatantly I wanted to eat them.
I pushed her onto the bed, and straddling her helpless body, drunk in the sight of her. Then I lowered my mouth to her squirming breasts and bit.
She squealed and struggled, trying to wiggle free, but I held her down easily and proceeded to suck and bite her breasts savagely. The harder I bit her nipples, the harder and hotter they became.
She was screaming and squealing and finally I relented and began to lick. She moaned. I rose to my knees over her. A large, blood-sucked bruise surrounded her left nipple; above and below the bruise were distinct teeth marks.
“You must be a sadist,” she said.
“What's that?”
“That's a guy who gets a hard-on from trying to bite off girls' nipples.”
“That's me, all right,” I said, sliding up along her body and pushing the evidence of my sadism toward her face until the head brushed against her lips. She licked all the way up and down the length of it and then rose up slightly to suck it into her mouth.
Then she bit.
I screamed and pulled out of her, rolling over to sit on the edge of the bed and examine any possible damage. Still laughing, she rolled over too and sat alongside me.
“You hurt it,” I said. “It doesn't like to be bitten.”
“Ah, the poor thing,” she said, bending over to kiss it.
“I guess it's okay,” I said. “You'd have been cutting off your nose to spite your face if you'd have bitten it off.”
“My what?”
“I don't know.”
“Get me out of this damn belt,” she said. “Let's go eat some breakfast.”
“You had your chance for breakfast and you nipped it in the bud.”
“Come on, Terry, for Christ's sake.”
I unbuckled her, slipped on a pair of white-shorts without bothering to put on a shirt or shoes and watched Sandy wiggle herself into one of my tee shirts. It hugged her torso like spray paint and through the well-worn cotton I could make out not only her nipples, but the teeth marks and the bruise I had sucked into her.
We went downstairs for breakfast and when that was over and Sandy had cleaned up for Grandma we walked outside and headed for the woods again.
We took off all our clothes and left them at the same spot we had the day before, wading down into the chill water of the stream and then, when we reached the deep water, taking a long, languid swim among the trout, the guppies and the water lilies.
We crawled up onto our moss-covered rock and stretched out to dry our bodies in the sun and against each other. The warmth of the sun's rays and the heat of Sandy's body began to excite me, but when I pressed myself against her she suggested we go deeper into the forest.
Holding hands, we walked on into deeper reaches than we had ever explored before. The pines and oaks gave way to maples and birches. The birds were different, too. Instead of the black-eared bush-tits and red-shafted flickers there circled around us and alit singing before us all kinds of other birds-scissor-tailed flycatchers, thick- billed kingbirds, horned larks, red-breasted nuthatches, skylarks, catbirds, bluethroats, white wagtails, painted redstarts, scarlet tanagers, indigo buntings, hoary redpolls, white-collared seedeaters and all manner of birds I'd never even seen before. The forest floor was carpeted for our naked feet with soft, lush wildflowers like agrimony, wild beans, bastard toadflax, bed-straw, bee-balm, black snakeroot, wild bleeding heart, blue cohash, brooklime, bunchberry, climbing fumitory, watercress, buttercups, foam-flowers, hemlock, hemp, honeysuckle, hog-peanuts, goldenrod, snapdragons, wormwood, wild ginger, wild carrots, water-willows, wild cucumbers.
We stopped at a spring surrounded with milkweeds and we lay down to drink from it. A small clearing several feet away was overgrown with tall, green grass, and we rolled over toward this natural bed.
Sandy lay on her belly and I kissed her ass, darting my tongue upward and exploring an orifice that all of a sudden began to arouse my curiosity. Each time the tongue went in she spread her legs a little further and I could feel them quivering with pleasure.
I planted a trail of kisses up her spine and wound up sucking on her ear. I lay on her back and by now my stiff cock was resting between her buttocks.
“Are you still sore?” I whispered.
“Yes,” she said.
“Maybe we can do it some other way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we can do it backwards. Some of the guys at school talk about that all the time.”
“What do you mean, backwards?” she asked.
“You know, you just lie there the way you are and I'll… we'll… proceed from there.”
“In other words,” she said, “you want to fuck me in the ass?”
“Yeah, I guess that's the term.”
“That sounds terrific, Terry.” She spread her legs even more and wiggled her ass against me. I didn't need any more prodding. I had to have her at once. I massaged her soft, resilient, pink buttocks and began inserting one finger, then two into her asshole until I felt confident to take the plunge myself. I did so, spreading her cheeks with one hand and guiding myself with the other until I had managed to squeeze in the head.
Sandy tightened up and I could feel her suppressing a moan of discomfort and pain.
“What's the matter?” I asked.
“It hurts.”
“So what?”
“Put something on it, Terry, make it smoother.”
“What is there?” I said, looking around. “Strawberries?”
“Milkweed,” she said. “Get some of the milkweeds.”
I dismounted and picked a half dozen of the thick milkweed stalks that grew alongside us. A smooth, milk- white cream oozed from the broken stems and I squeezed a handful of it out, applying it to her ass and heavily anointing my prick with a juicy, generous application of the fluid.
Then I lowered myself back down onto her and gasped with delight as I felt myself slide all the way into her asshole until the tops of my thighs were squashing her upthrust buttocks.
I slid my hands underneath her to cup, squeeze and squash her breasts, began slowly to withdraw and then to plunge back into her. At first she was tight, controlled, in pain, too obviously suffering me without complaint because she wanted me to enjoy myself. But the longer I thrust and withdrew, the more she relaxed and began to breathe more deeply, more pleasurably. Her nipples expanded and got hotter and hotter. She began to move with me, slowly at first and then with more and more abandon.
My own hungry poundings became less and less gentle now, as I felt her responding to me, as I felt the pain in her nerves transforming into pleasure. I let myself go, and savagely drove into her, going further and further
