Sharon found that the little cum had relaxed her. She settled down to enjoying this cleansing, impersonal fuck. It quickly dispersed her guilt over seducing Buddy.
Her cunt squished on every stroke. It began to feel like a melting cavern.
Harve said, 'We better not take too much time.'
'Does that mean you're coming?'
'Pretty soon. My cock feels, like a hammer handle, that long and hard.'
'Wait.'
She reached down her belly to finger her clit. The trouble with this position was the lack of clitoral pressure. She rolled the olive-slick bump, and quickly the palpitations of her snatch became long squeezings, stripping his pole each time it drew out, tightening when his head thrust back in to wedge her open. At the end of each stoke her cunt went loose and gushed.
Harve's groin was slapping loudly on her wet ass. 'Take it!' he suddenly cried. 'I'm shooting my balls off!'
Sharon erupted when his cream flew into the depths of her cunt. She felt her juice running down both legs. She groaned into the bedsheet.
Still he hammered her ass, his scrotum flying up, nuts whacking her belly. Another charge spurted into her.
Her cunt was stripping his spewing organ.
His last shot drove her into the bed, as her legs gave out. She clung for dear life as her cunt throbbed over the peak of orgasm and flopped into a slippery pink valley beyond.
Even as his strength withered, her snatch fluttered through another cum.
CHAPTER FOUR
Buddy approached the motel, trembling like a thief on a dangerous job.
The floodlit building looked enormous. When he reached the lobby entrance the walls seemed to tilt out over him, as though to swat him like a fly, crush him down into the coral drive.
Sharon had said Nancy was about thirty. Pretty old. She probably looked like a dog, though Sharon said no. Well, he had to at least make a pass at her or Sharon would never let him fuck her again, and man, that had been good, squeezing his meat into his sister's hot little slot.
It was almost three o'clock. He had sneaked out of his bedroom through the window. If Ma ever found out…
He pushed the door open, the lobby was dark except for a light in the corridor ahead. He moved in, glancing about, expecting somebody to yell at him. In military school a guy learned to stay within bounds, especially at night. The marble lobby looked classy, and he had on an old T-shirt, cut-off denims and sneakers. He felt like a bum. He should be wearing a dress uniform in this joint.
He paced silently toward the light. He glimpsed a dark-haired girl behind the counter. Dark eyes flashed his way. Nearer, he saw her shape and her big, thrusting tits. This had to be Nancy.
Her eyebrow formed a question mark.
When he spoke his voice squeaked. 'I'm Sharon Wilson's brother.'
Her head cocked. 'You?'
He nodded, trying to swallow. She looked sort of fierce, like he had no right to be here.
She said, 'I thought Sharon's brother was smaller, younger. The way she spoke…'
'I'm Buddy all right.' He dodged her gaze. Into his mind flashed a saying of one of his instructors at military school. The enemy is always just as scared as you are. And seeing Nancy's gaze shift, he said, 'You must be Nancy…' Bolder now, he added, 'I thought you were older.'
Her smile flashed. 'Older than what?'
He gulped. He had run out of courage. He grinned sheepishly.
She said, 'Sharon is checking out the units. She'll be back soon. Do you want to come behind the counter and sit down?'
He nodded and rounded the counter, glancing at her body as he took a seat. Wide ass. Long, sleek legs. He felt a throb in his pants.
He said, 'I woke up with a pain in my stomach. I took a walk and now I feel better.'
She was smiling at him. 'While we're waiting for Sharon, tell me about military school.'
He knew she was putting him down, like older people did, by asking him about school. It angered him. He said sharply, 'Sharon told me you were pretty, Nancy. But she didn't say how sexy you were.'
Nancy's face turned red as a beet.
She took a cigarette from the pack on the counter to cover up her embarrassment.
But Buddy saw a twinkle of pleasure in her eyes.
Sharon had been glancing worriedly at her watch. It was late. Where was Buddy?
As she moved up the corridor toward the lobby she heard voices, then laughter. She paused, listening intently.
She heard Buddy say, 'So we stole the captain's uniform and his wife's clothes. We figured they'd have to walk home from the pond naked. It was so dark that night, we were back at the barracks before we noticed it wasn't a captain's bars on the uniform but a lieutenant's, but the dress sure was the one the captain's wife wore at the party.'
Nancy burst into laughter.
Sharon smiled wryly. Little brother was apparently not as shy as she had thought. Maybe she had not been his first lay either.
Then Nancy said, 'Buddy, if you really want to take a swim, we can find trunks for you. As long as you're quiet in the pool.'
Sharon had heard enough. She moved down the hall, clicking her heels loudly to catch their attention. In view now, she saw the two of them sitting behind the counter, glancing over it at her, looking annoyed at the interruption.
Nancy said, 'Sharon, Buddy woke up feeling ill. But he's all right now.'
'And thinking of going swimming?' Sharon said. 'I'll get him a pair of Harve's trunks. Come on, Buddy.'
She led him to the employees' lounge. There she whispered, 'Are you making any time?'
'Gosh, I don't know. But Nancy doesn't seem thirty years old. I mean, she's a lush piece.'
Sharon nodded agreement, then went to Harve's locker. She had not seen Harve for an hour. Not surprisingly, he was sacked in on the bunk bed, snoring away.
She found two swimsuits, a pair of gaudy trunks and a slingshot apparatus like a jockstrap, made of nylon and almost transparent. She chose it.
She would soon learn if Nancy liked young cocks sufficiently to lose her job over one.
Nancy tried to light a cigarette. Her hands were trembling too violently to cope with matches. The cigarette broke in her fingers.
Buddy was exactly the type of teen-age boy that had ruined her marriage, an impish fuck with a cock like a flashlight.
She heard their voices, Sharon's and Buddy's, coming from the employees' lounge. Could she bear the sight of him in a swimsuit? Nancy knotted her fists, cutting fingernails into her palms. God, could she control herself?
Buddy's naked torso was solid, hairless, gold, perhaps a bit plump with baby fat. He wore Harve's strap- and-pouch swimsuit, and God, oh God, his genital bulge seemed to leap into Nancy's face, cock and balls wadded up in nylon about to split open.
She tore her gaze from him. The fireball in her panties lengthened and squeezed fully into her snatch, burning a hole before it.
Sharon's voice seemed to come from another world.
'Nancy, if you want to show Buddy the pool, I'll mind the desk.'
