his fingers, revealing the glistening heart of her twat. It was all laid out before him: the hooded nubbin of her clit, then the tiny opening of her pisser, and below that the delectable funnel of her vagina.
The scent of her excitement was thick and strong. He leaned toward her twat. His mouth fastened on her clit and she moaned and fell backwards on his desk. He sucked hard on her clit, then stroked it with his tongue. Her hips began to roll and heave. Her fingers clutched his head, gripped his steel-gray curls.
As he ate his secretary, he thought about his three daughters. The corner of his mind called the 'id' kept wondering what their pussies looked like. How much hair did fifteen-year-old Patty have on her honey slit? Any? What color was sixteen-year-old Gabby's snatch? Blonde like her thick long hair, or pale red? What would seventeen-year-old Caela's thick seepings taste like? What would her youthful cunt feel like clutching his throbbing phallus?
Heaving free of Joan's grasp, Mike stood up and shoved his pants down around his powerful legs. Joan lay there on his desk, her breasts squashed out by their own weight. Her dark nipples jutted up anxiously, denying the force of gravity. Her blouse was spread out on the green blotter. Her head was actually hanging off the far side. Her sleek, tan thighs were spread wide. The distended inner lips of her twat beckoned his prod.
Bending the pale, veined shaft of his cock, he guided the pink/purple knob, gleaming with his lubricants, to the flowered heart of her brown twat. He groaned at the feel of her wiry cunt curls scratching his nerve endings. Then the head was embraced by the soft, hot, clinging folds of her hole. Looking down, he watched as the sculpted length of his cock sank into her slippery depths. Then his jet-black bush mingled and tangled with her dark brown one, and he heard her moan.
Reaching forward, he put his hands on the outer slopes of her breasts, then lifted and squashed them, molded them to produce a deep cleavage. As his thumbs raked over the rubbery brown nubbins, her head rolled from side to side and her mouth twisted with lust.
He had never understood her eagerness to fuck with him. He knew she loved her husband. But, he didn't question his good fortune. Joan's signals had been unmistakable from the moment he had hired her. The first time had been like this, on the top of his desk, the glare of the fluorescent ceiling lights making her lush, heavy breasts look pale as alabaster.
Drawing back, he watched his cock slide out, tugging at her folds. It was shining with her juices. She reached down, parted her pussy lips, and fingered her clitoris as he slid his dick back into her searing depths. His hands bruised her breasts as he slowly pistoned his cock in and out of her clutching tunnel.
He kept thinking of ‘Caela. He hadn't realized until that morning how gracefully mature her legs were, and how much of them there was. The crotch of her pajama panties had been bunched up. Her twat had been just a faint shadow. Mike rammed his cock hard into Joan's cunt, tried to blot from his mind the memory of ‘Caela's silhouette under the translucent fabric. For one brief exciting moment she had stood in front of the window… in profile, showing the heavy sag of her mature boobs.
Mike's groin jammed hard into Joan's crotch. The sun spilling in the window drenched her semi-clothed, wantonly bared body, burning his hands and her tits. The cum was gathering in his gut. The reservoir got larger and larger as he stroked his cock in her tunnel. The friction of her cunt made his prick get hotter and hotter.
'Oh, Mike!' Joan groaned. 'Cum with me, Mike, cum with me!”
Panting harshly, Mike watched his phallus piston in her slick cylinder, watched her slender fingers diddle and roll her clit. His bush tangled with hers, then freed itself, then tangled again. His balls slapped her ass with every stroke. He was getting closer and closer. The •pool of cum was getting more and more impatient.
'Cum,' Joan pleaded. 'I want to feel you cum In me!”
'Gonna,' Mike granted. 'Jesus! Here it comes!”
His cock flared hot as the sun as the semen ripped along it. His groin knotted ecstatically as it emptied the creamy wads into her spasming tunnel. Joan was whimpering and her head was flailing from side to side. He drove at her, hard. His ass cheeks clenched, squeezing out every searing spurt of jizm as his crotch pushed against hers. He leaned forward as she lifted her legs and folded them. The head of his phallus touched the end of her shaft, and the last of his cum pressed against his dick tip.
With a groan, releasing her bruised breasts, he stretched out on top of her. As he pinned her to the desk, he felt her hands between his pubic arch and hers. Her twisted skirt was a lumpy rope between them. His shirt buttons grated between their sweaty skins. His cock squirmed, shooting one last hot dribble of semen into her searing sleeve.
'I don't know what got into you this morning,' Joan sighed as she dragged her hands out from between them. 'But I sure hope it happens again.”
Mike grunted, and concentrated on the feel of his prick sliding out of her cunt as it shriveled. He didn't want to think of ‘Caela and his incestuous lust for her.
Finally, it was over and done with, and he was alone in his office again. After the fuck Joan had stood in front of him, grinning wickedly. She had arranged her skirt over her sodden pussy, then buttoned her rumpled blouse, concealing her big breasts. After taking the signed letters from his 'Out' basket, she had sauntered out. Her hips had swayed languidly and there was contentment in every line of her body.
Turning his back on his desk so he wouldn't see the dark stain on the blotter, Mike thought about his three daughters. He was afraid he had put his birds and the bees lecture off too long. Katherine had died ten years ago, and even ‘Caela had of course been too young, then. Now, probably, she was too old for him to-clue her in on the facts of life. Anyway, it wasn't the kind of topic that a man usually has to talk with his daughters about.
Maybe it wasn't too late, though. She'd had a good upbringing, after all, church on Sundays, and a good strict school until the move here. Maybe she was physically far beyond her psychology? It was a thin hope- but she had never given any indication she was really aware of sex.
Gabby and Patty were still virgins, of course. But he was going to have to take the bit between his teeth and tell them what he hadn't told ‘Caela. There wasn't any doubt that the public school they were going to now had an entirely different social atmosphere.
He felt reasonably confident they could take care of themselves. It was a good thing, with the entire summer stretching ahead of them, and his having to work as hard as possible to build his new clientele.
He wondered how the girls were spending the day.
‘Caela was biting her lower lip as Chris Duffy crossed the room toward her. His cock was bobbing and waving heavily. She couldn't take her eyes off it When he'd said he was a nudist, and asked if it was all right to take all his clothes off, she had felt as if she had been punched in the stomach-but in a nice way. Her chest had gotten all tight, making it hard to say, 'Sure, okay by me.”
Now he was tensely walking toward her, his clothes in a heap in her father's easy chair. There was so much of him. He was all tan, except for where his bathing suit usually covered him. He had no hair on his chest at all, but there was a big curly bush of it around the base of his cock. And under his cock were two lumps in a funny, dusky bag. His cock was-was, immense, and stiff and hard. It was dribbling some sticky, clear fluid. It was absolutely gorgeous. The sight of it was making her insides feel all funny, all hot and soft and tense.
It was like the way Daddy's hard-on had made her feel that morning. Only more so.
'How about you?' Chris asked. His voice sounded funny through the ringing in her ears.
'Huh? What?”
'How about you? Aren't you going to get naked?' Chris asked. He reached for the soft drink he had left on the coffee table.
'Uh, no, don't think so,' ‘Caela stammered.
'Why not? Besides, it hardly seems fair for me to be this way, and you to stay dressed,' he pointed out.
'I'm not a nudist,' ‘Caela answered. 'I'm not used to it, the way you are.' She was beginning to think that maybe inviting Chris over when she was the only one home hadn't been such a good idea after all.
'Well, suit yourself. Sure is a lot more comfortable this way, though. Clothes are a real pain.”
'Maybe,' she answered, managing not to flinch away when he sat down beside her on the couch. She kept looking at his cock. God, it was big!
He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his naked body. She folded her arms, afraid to let her bare arm touch his naked thigh. Then he put his cola down, and touched her chin, turning her head.
