Her soft ass was rubbing up hard against his chin, her hips were smashing hungrily at his sucking face as a passionate climax enveloped her. His whole head was buried between her humping legs as the payoff of sweet wetness gushed happily from her clamping cunt.
Finally everything was still and Grace dropped back on the sofa with flushed cheeks and heaving chest. The white areas of her body now beamed with hot pinkness, a smile Alan never saw before came across her face.
'Oh, I underestimated you, my fine friend,' she whispered. 'But you've shown me a whole new perspective.'
He didn't know what she meant and didn't feel like asking. Alan was eager to sink his cock into the oiled cunt, to send it deep and take his time working up to an explosion. He lay upon her body, their feet on the floor and squirmed the head of his cock in tight against the welcoming yawn of her sighing box.
'Wait,' she whispered. Then she rolled over until she was on her back.
Alan crawled into position between her legs and saw she was smiling that smile again. 'It's your show, Alan. I'm bushed,' she said.
He eased his cock into the firm grip of her cunt. It felt as tight, as small as Teresa's, only much softer. When she raised herself up to take more cock, the movement was smooth, exact, precisely what he wanted to feel. The head of his pecker slid all the way in and she grimaced with pleasure as it touched deep.
'Oh… that's good, that's the way it should be,' she sighed.
Alan started slow, very slow. He wanted to feel the tender kiss of her vagina all along his rod. She was motionless for several minutes before making her first move. That was a high lift and sideways jerk. Alan's cock sank deep and rammed hard into one wall. She groaned.
He kept directing his plunges into the one wall and felt it grow amazingly hot, felt the friction increase as he smeared away the lubricating fluids. Now she was clipping at him from the side to help. Each stab hit right on target, right into a soft patch of tissue that was growing hotter and more sensitive each time.
Alan imagined a blister forming on the spot, wondered if it was a favorite spot of hers or if she just picked one at random to batter silly. But it was a gas carrying on the precision movements, he loved it. So did Grace. Her guts erupted with another orgasm to send the whole length of her twat into clapping spasms along his spike.
It was like a thousand tiny hands jacking him off, digging into the rim of the glans, punching, kicking, hugging his cock like a welcome hero.
'God! I can't believe it!' she screamed out loud.
Alan's ass was moving fast now, sending his pole deep and fast as the infection of her climax spread to him. He was proud as hell to have such a dignified lady going crackers under him, proud as punch. And punch he did. His fat-headed cock was jamming into her like the fist of a heavyweight prizefighter to ring the final bell.
Alan's back was aching from strain when he finally felt his second climax coming. It started off as a thought in the back of his mind and just grew. His head was reeling, sweat dripped from his temples, each breath was a lurching gasp as the thought became a true physical feeling somewhere down by his knees.
It spread upward to numb his thighs and make his nuts feel ten times their normal size. That's when he realized the ringer was in his ass again. He couldn't remember her sticking it in there, it was just there, twisting, rolling, stabbing down to inflame his guts.
He frothed over with one constant pumping action that didn't end until he was empty. Alan remembered the wonderful cushion of her breasts as he collapsed onto them, the comfortable hug of her happy arms around his shoulders. The cream seeped from his pecker to glue them together.
He could hardly hear her speaking. 'You were wonderful, Alan, just wonderful… I'm so glad I stopped you before you got to Teresa… She'd never let you go if she felt as good as I feel now… '
Alan shook his head and tried to swallow the dryness in his throat. 'Huh?'
'Oh, nothing, just relax, my dear, just relax.'
'What did you say about Teresa? About getting to her?'
'It doesn't matter anymore, Alan. Forget about her. Now you're mine,' she whispered.
'Yours?'
'Yes, dear, there's no reason we can't get together again,' she said.
The idea didn't seem bad to Alan and anyway he was tired as hell. The last thing he remembered was Grace telling him not to worry about guarding the pool for a few hours, she'd get one of the other guys to watch. He needed his rest and should take a nap.
Like a well-fed Cheshire cat, Alan went to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
All of a sudden everything was cool. Teresa didn't know what to make of it. Alan wasn't smiling, barely talked to her and hadn't asked her out all week. Worst of all, she couldn't get a reason out of him.
Teresa finished her last lap across the pool and rested at the edge. She looked up at Alan in his chair. He had his attention focused at the other end of the pool. Teresa shrugged; it was over, she knew that. And it didn't bother her that much either… except for not knowing the reason why.
Alan was fun, great, terrific in bed, but he could be replaced, she figured. Teresa decided the last thing she would do would show him any signs of hurt. After all, she had her pride. Who did he think he was anyway?
She pulled herself from the water with a full, quick movement to make sure the top of her bikini was pulled enticingly low. The patches of fabric hung loosely down to reveal the upper ovals of her pink nipples. She let the suit stay where it was while slowly toweling off.
'You'd be better off without that suit.'
Teresa looked up. It wasn't Alan who spoke; he was still looking away. She turned and faced Johnny Carvel.
Teresa grinned and winked. 'Hello, Johnny. I might be better off without the suit but I'd be thrown out of the club real fast.'
A smile came across the deeply tanned face of Johnny as he replied, 'You bet and I'd be the first guy to carry you out.'
'Sure,' said Teresa. 'And as soon as my mother found out you'd be out of a job and we'd be looking for a new bartender.'
Johnny Carvel's face went serious and Teresa felt a surge of tingling excitement in her stomach. 'I don't think you'd tell her,' he said.
Her face matched his expression. 'No, I don't think I would.'
Alan watched as Johnny sauntered by the pool and disappeared into the poolside clubhouse. Johnny was the swarthy, handsome bartender at Terra-Mar Country Club, someone Alan had never met officially but on occasion exchanged nods of recognition with. He wasn't sure if he liked the guy or not, he was just there, mixing drinks for those who wanted them and never attracting much attention.
Alan looked down. Teresa was gone. Her wet footsteps left a path toward the bathhouse where the sauna and steam rooms were located. He saw Teresa's girlfriend, Eileen, get up from her lounge and follow the prints.
'Did you see where Teresa went?' Eileen asked Alan.
'I guess she's in the bathhouse,' he answered.
Eileen smiled and batted her eyes before leaving. Alan watched the tight roll of her rounded rump as she walked away. She was a thin girl with small, high breasts and an amazingly slim waist. Her long legs and statuesque facial features were sure to get her into a career as a high-fashion model, Alan figured.
Alan relaxed and basked in the hot sun while thinking about his present situation. He and Grace Cunningham had met again yesterday afternoon. In her office. That was much better than paying for a motel room. She ravished his body like a starving lioness, exhausted him, drained every last ounce of energy and power from his limbs.
'You're the best I've ever had,' she said when it was over and they rested.
Alan was proud. After all, Grace wasn't any teenager who didn't know what she was talking about. She was married and had obviously had several affairs prior to Alan. It was a much better deal with Grace than with Teresa. The only part he didn't like was having to snub Teresa.
