unreachable.
'Just came down for a bite myself. But I'll come back later if I caught you naked as a jay-bird.' His humor sounded an empty nothing to Frank.
'Come in. It's fine. I'm not really, naked. Besides, you're the master of this house, right? So join me. Just keep the light off.'
Frank poked about the fridge, finding the bowl of cold chicken and the milk. She was standing facing the sink, looking out into the moonlit night as he placed the bowl on the counter. 'Like a piece?' he asked, feeling the wild tremor at the double entendre and leaning close against the counter front to keep his thoroughly aroused cock from bursting through the folds of his robe.
'Thank you.' She reached daintily into the metal bowl and he studied her unashamedly. 'I'm too piggy, but my figure doesn't seem to hurt from it.'
'That is for sure!' He saw her glance at his staring but didn't care. 'Say, we're surely glad you're staying with us for your Connecticut performances.'
'You aren't thinking about my performances at all, Frank,' she accused softly. 'But, thank you. I'm thrilled to be here.'
In the filtering moonlight her magnificent breasts rose and fell evenly as she returned to her study of their back yard. He watched her finger the drumstick to her lips, pucker and nibble sensuously at the flesh… lick her lower lip and give him privacy to inventory her body profile.
Fabulous classic Grecian beauty to her dark hair and ivory skin. Chiseled perfection to the line of her slightly tilted nose, to the angle of her chin, the smoothness of her sleek throat. Her body, visible through the translucent pink of her shorty gown, was that of woman made for loving. Her nipples, unguarded by a bra, were hard points against the chiffon.
She finished the chicken leg and every bite was an agony for Frank. It was his cock she could be munching and it was his cock she was missing! Any cock, for all he knew of the manless career she had chosen, but for the moment, his cock.
'I can read the dial on your clock radio, Frank. Can you… from here?' She had turned and leaned back against the counter as she stared across the darkened kitchen toward the breakfast nook.
Trapped! The instant he turned, his frantic erection would lose the protection of the wall of the sink counter and leap through his bathrobe. Easily seen in the moonlit kitchen.
'Frank… didn't you hear me? Or are your eyes too old?' She caught his wrist with a little giggle and spun him around. 'What does the dial say… oh… oh!' With a sigh of affected dismay, Celeste reached quietly across his front and clasped the great white phallus, ramrodding from the dark folds of his robe.
For a breath stopping second she fondled. 'Has this made love to my long-ago roomie today?' She pulled impudently at the horny gristle of his cock shaft. 'Tell me, Frank, was this inside Jennifer tonight?'
Momentarily speechless at her utter calm and her directness as she fondled the erection and looked into his eyes, he nodded. Just as though Celeste was the one person in the world who had a right to know.
'Does my openness upset you?'
'No! Good gosh, but you're different!' That was the whole clue, he knew. This brilliant talent, this magnificent female with the stacked chassis that bad to be love starved was really no brazen hussy. She was a beautiful, considerate house guest from the moment she walked through their front door, and she had a tremendous love for Jennifer, as alive now as when they'd been roommates at Gordon. House guest was just what Celeste wasn't. To all of the Quinby household she was now family and she could do no wrong. Least of all this very personal touch. No wrong, Frank reminded himself, nothing but openness. So his lust burned for Celeste. It was plainly welcomed.
'Tell me how you made love to her tonight.' The fingers became a fist clutching his cock.
A mad irrationality spilled all common sense from Frank's brain and words tumbled as if he was talking about the weather. 'Rather show you than tell you.' Last stabbing grab for reason as he saw her eyes glitter. 'So, go on, Miss Cute Ass Celeste Dantrelle. Get mad! You asked.'
Braced for her outrage or her slap or almost anything, Frank spun her around against his front, grinding his hard on into the thin chiffon as he kissed her lips.
Suddenly the hot hard flesh of his penis was through her frilly pink peignoir, its knobby cap urgent and rude against the soft undercurve of her vee mound. The heady wildness of his sex flesh rubbed against her pubic down, slid over warm pussy tissue and tore all the controls from Frank. Not daring to look into her face or wait for a sign of her wanting, his arm cupped tightly at the upper curve of her tail, he bent Celeste back. Far back.
Startled as she was at his incredible behavior, she arched deeply to his pressure, her head tilted to stare at the tumult-driven prick jabbed against her crotch. Then her head lolled back in limp surrender, eyes closed, lips parted, her body taut but her arms loose at her side. The peignoir spilled open and nearly left her shoulders, but Frank was unaware of it. In totally exposed voluptuosity, her nudity was before him. In what couldn't have taken five seconds, she had opened to his will, her sleek thighs slightly parted to offer the ultimate prize.
Frank took. Hands cupped at her buttocks he bent slightly at the knees and thrust upward as he straightened, impaling Celeste's torrid femininity on the end of his phallus. A sharp intake of air and a momentary stiffening as she felt his first demanding thrust. Then the passion was on him. Her body, animated even in standing coitus, seemed to envelope his and he was going… going… too soon! He fought to hold it back. Lost!
Hot, spraying darts of semen raced into her barely penetrated vagina.
It was over.
That fast it was over and done with and a wilting, glistening cock slithered from her cunty cleft. Her arms crawled sensuously over his shoulders and around his neck and she was leaning silently against him. For long moments no words.
Frank, frustrated that her body wonders had forced him to climax before she had begun to build, hugged her tight and searched for words. None came. The great chance to really make it with Celeste was blown. It was a want that had burned feverishly from the first sight of her. Now it was gone.
'You don't give a girl much chance, do you?' Her eyes were full on his face. 'Is that… what do athletes call it…? Your best shot?'
'But gosh, Celeste… I don't…'
'Must be more.' Sultry, whispered taunting! 'I'd like to know why Jennifer chose you, instead of her career. Could it be this?'
One savage squeeze forced him hard again and he caught her hand and ripped it from his erection, pushing her toward the back door. 'The cabana… out by the pool. You'll find out what she got instead of a damned music career.'
Nothing short of earthquake could have stopped Frank Quinby as he tiptoed from the kitchen out onto the dew-dampened grass and across to the swimming pool. Just as they slipped from the screen door to the flagstone patio, Celeste squeezed his hand fiercely. Her pink shorty gown slipped from her shoulders.
Something tore inside Frank at the sight of her total nudity in the night. Dancing away from him, arms wide flung, breasts happily thrusting, she was a nymph of distant legend. The brightness of a full moon gleamed across her front and accented hills and valleys of incomparable splendor. Her ribcage concaved deeply into her waist and satin smooth flesh plateaued to the wild width of her hips, curving back into the prominent vee mound that topped her love center.
He strutted proudly before her, naked himself as they reached the safety of the cabana. A potent man, vain about his overdeveloped genitals, Frank grabbed the opportunity to show off as he hefted a mattress over his head and strode brazenly to the double size chaise lounge.
This time it was right. No hurry. No impetuous schoolboy in Frank's lovemaking. No premature ejaculation. He molded her fantastic curves across the chaise he'd had specially made for sex. Resisting inner springs gave a kind of surprise reflex to his thrust as he drove his phallus into her, giving each spearing stroke a whip snap when he ground her taut buttocks hard against the mattress. Passion agony was on her lips as he withdrew with tortuous deliberateness almost to the tip of his cock after each thrust.
The cabana became an isolated world apart from reality as he rode and conquered and heard her sweet screams of fuck need. She was finding what she wanted to know – why his Jennifer wanted man instead of music for a career.
Jennifer! His bold betrayal splashed like a brief rocket before his fevered thoughts as he felt himself hurrying
