Carol (Carol Schmidt Series) (13 page)

BOOK: Carol (Carol Schmidt Series)
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Then he pushed his tongue deep inside, moving it up and down and
stabbing the walls of her vagina with such power that she wondered if he had
some magical dildo concealed inside his mouth. She was now spread wide, wet
through and vulnerable, and he was running his tongue around the lips in big,
slurping circles, hard and urgent, getting into every fold and hidden corner of
her, and making a sort of drinking sound as if he was not going to stop until
he’d swallowed every drop of her.

Meanwhile, his hands were tearing her ass apart. But he knew exactly
the limits, rubbing and gouging deep into the flesh without it ever becoming
more than a fantastic butt-squeeze. From time to time he stabbed at her anus
with a single finger. She loved it, wanted him to push on inside her right
there. He didn’t, though; his hands were on autopilot, all his concentration
was devoted to eating her sex, and her ass would have to wait. She was OK with
that.

Her hands were against the wall now, holding herself there as he
took her quickly and inevitably toward ecstasy. She looked down, saw her tits
hanging loose, just begging to be fondled, but no one there to do it.

Then it came, a long, whole-body orgasm. A big, sudden flutter deep
in her belly that escalated rapidly until it had ripped right through her, so
debilitating that she felt as if she was going to piss herself. Now he eased
his hold on her a little, letting her ride the waves of satisfaction, his mouth
slackening off, panting as he lapped up the new flow of juices from her.

There was a little moan from him as he tasted her once more, and his
hands delved deeper into her butt crack. He held things steady a moment, taking
time to breathe, just flicking her clit with his tongue as she rocked and
quivered above him. Then it was back to it. This guy knew how to drive a girl
on.

“Oh, you’re good!” she whispered, then winced as he sucked so hard
that for a second a sharp dagger of pain shot through her crotch and down into
her ass. But it was only a second, after which he was licking her with manic
speed, and she saw nothing but a red hot haze.

 

The next thing she knew, she was curled up in a ball on the bed, her
robe draped over her, and Jerry nowhere to be seen. The guy had actually made
her pass out, such was the unbridled intensity of what he’d done to her. Yes,
she could definitely live with this sort of treatment for a couple of days.

A moment later he returned, a large tray in his hands.

“Here,” he said. “I thought you might want a snack.”

With a boyish glint in his eye, he settled down next to her on the bed.
On the tray was a little half-bottle of champagne, a silver dish with a lid, a
tub of cream cheese, and a pile of blinis.

He lifted the lid. Glossy black caviar was sitting in its little
tin, which was on a bed of ice. He popped the champagne and poured two glasses.
Then, without a word, he got a blini, spread some cheese on it, loaded a little
caviar on top, and fed it to her. He even wiped the smear of cream cheese from
her lower lip.

As she was indulging in the fresh, cold sensation of Beluga in her
mouth, one of her very favorite things in the world, he leaned into her and
kissed her gently on the lips.

He got himself a blini. She watched him, the careful attention to
detail, the way he had of doing everything, measured and focused but so utterly
natural. And she immediately knew why those old widows and spinsters had bought
into him. He was completely at ease with himself, a picture of devout, serious
masculinity. Not the most handsome guy she’d ever seen, but wholly convincing,
and just a little bit mysterious. Class, you’d probably call it. If you didn’t
know better.

The best thing of all, though? He did it all without talking. He
didn’t need to be constantly chatting, whether it was sex or eating blinis in
bed. In such situations, men normally have to show how much they’re in charge,
a constant stream of observations, opinions, judgments... Jesus, why do men do
that? They have their red hot cock deep inside you, their face screwed up in
agonizing and very evident pleasure, just seconds from an orgasm that’s gonna
make their toes curl until they almost break, yet they have to
tell
you
how good it is?

Not Jerry Hobbs. He was the real deal, the strong silent type. Only,
he was also a conman, and it was her job to make him pay.

“OK,” she said, squirming with pleasure as she ate a second blini,
“I guess we do need to mention that case of money from yesterday.” She giggled
as he stuck his finger in the cream cheese then brought it to her mouth,
letting her lick the finger clean.

“It’s in the bank,” he said. “Took it first thing this morning. I
have a receipt made out for you. Plus, I’ve written you a check for cash. You
can draw on it anywhere in the world. It’ll take a while from a foreign bank,
but, y’know...”

“My cousin,” she interrupted. “I talked to him this morning. He had
an idea. I mean, what do you think? He’s set me up an account at a bank in
Panama City.”

He nodded. “Sounds smart. You can wire the money there.”

“That’s what I thought. An off-shore bank, that’s my best bet,
right?”

“Yep. You know what,” he said, taking a sip of champagne, and gazing
down where her robe was falling apart, revealing the most perfect breasts he
had ever seen, so beautiful that he felt a pang of guilt that so far he had
paid them so little attention. “If your account’s all set up, we can send the
money from here. Electronic transfer, right from my laptop. Your cash will be
there instantly.”

With an index finger he inched the robe further apart. “God, you’re
fantastic.”

“So are you,” she said. “I’m so grateful for your help. I want to
repay you. In fact, I want to do something to you right now.”

They kissed, slow and soft, creamy saliva mixing in their mouths. He
was stiffening, his cock poking out from his robe, the foreskin halfway back,
and the head a deep red, the tiny slit already glistening.

She laid a hand on it and instantly several more drops of juice
trickled down the shaft and onto her fingers. She brought the fingers to their
mouths and together they licked them dry.

Then, calmly and without any rush or shame, his erection already
horizontal, he cleared the tray from the bed and let the robe fall to the
floor.

“What did you want to do to me?” he asked, as if he was genuinely
curious. “I mean, I’m all yours.”

She moved across the bed and sat on the end, with Jerry standing
right in front of her.

“I want to play a game,” she said, her face almost touching his
penis. “Do you have neckties?”

“You want to tie me up?” he said.

“Both of us,” she said. “Get two.”

He did as he was told.

Returning with two silk ties, she ordered him to tie her wrists
together in front of her. Then she told him to turn round, and she tied his
wrists behind his back.

“There,” she said. “We’re ready. Like the phones,” she said. “
Hands-free
.”

He stood there, staring at his cock. It was quite thick, average
length, and engorged to the full, every vein down its shaft bulging with blood,
and the head swollen to an enticing shade of purple.

She shuffled forward, her tied hands in her lap, and blew onto the tip
of his penis. He gave a little involuntary shudder, and as he twisted on his
feet, he realized that he wasn’t able to use his hands and arms to steady
himself. Cautiously, then, he set his feet farther apart, and waited for her to
take him in her mouth, eyes already closing, a smile on his face.

But she didn’t. She remained there, breathing gently on him, and
inhaling the faintly salty smell of cock. Again she blew on it, soft little
gusts, some into his pubes, more down onto his balls. The cock jumped and fell
fractionally with his pulse, but otherwise the only movement was at the very
tip, where enough of his clear, fine juice had gathered to form a large drop.

With the tip of her tongue she touched it, catching the drop. He
opened an eye, amused at her playfulness, watching her as she studied his penis.
She was waiting, it seemed, for more.

And it wasn’t long before more came, because by now he was so stiff
you could have hung a picture on his manhood. Another drop of clear liquid, and
again she maneuvered it deftly onto her tongue, then swallowed it with an
almost imperceptible murmur of pleasure.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head fall back on his neck:
she was going to milk him, the dirty bitch was going to drink him dry.
Hands-free
.
Without ever touching him, she was going to make him ejaculate. It was amazing.
She
was amazing.

“I’m not going to touch you once,” she whispered, as if reading his
thoughts. “I want to see you come.”

Even as she said the words, his pelvis jerked forward. She bobbed to
one side, instincts as sharp as a boxer, making sure there was no contact. When
his cock settled again, there was another drop seeping from its opening, ready
for her.

“Move back a bit,” she said.

He did as he was told, and she knelt in front of him on the floor,
her tied hands now down between her legs. With a finger she applied a little
pressure on her sex, letting the finger rest there, slipping inside just
slightly, nothing more.

Meanwhile, she gazed up at Jerry’s hard penis from below. There were
a few thin, wispy hairs on his ball sack. She blew them, watching them moved.
He spread his legs further still, bending his knees a touch then straightening
them again. It was awkward, and he didn’t quite know how to position himself,
but he was loving it, knowing that she was looking at him, at his pumped up
tool standing there in all its glory. And it made him feel so horny that his
cock ached deep down to its root, where he’d never felt it ache before, at
least not like this.

By now there was more juice oozing from his little slit. It
collected there, another transparent tear, and she only had to position her
mouth underneath, then make the slightest contact with her tongue for it to fall.

“Rules are,” she said, tasting his saltiness in her mouth, “you
can’t touch each other. But you can touch yourself. Look, I’m fingering myself
as I watch the blood running through your beautiful, stiff cock.”

“Jesus,” he moaned, glancing down and seeing her hand pushed between
her legs, down close to the carpet.

“You know what I want, Jerry? I want your cock so hard that when I
imagine you ramming it into me, it hurts.”

By now she had two fingers in herself, rocking on her hand as she
talked, and every now and then milking the droplets of juice from his penis
with her tongue. And as he stood there, whimpering to himself, swimming in the
weirdest kind of delight he had ever known, he was desperate for more, to feel
himself inside her, just like she said, hard and fast. Only he didn’t want the
hands-free
to end either, didn’t want to break the rules. Because this just had to be the
horniest thing he’d ever done.

So, he started touching his own ass, straining to get his bound
hands in a good position, then letting his fingers squeeze and caress his
buttocks. His crotch was moving back and forth a little as he began pawing
himself, finding the butt hole and using the tip of his index finger to tickle
its tightness, surprising himself by how much he liked it.

“Are you playing with yourself?” she asked, seeing how his face was
beginning to contort with pleasure. “Naughty boy! See? You don’t need me at
all. You can do it all on your own. Go on, I’m watching. You’re turning me on.”

His head was up, facing the ceiling, and he did what he was told,
playing with his own buttocks, his body dipping and twisting as he got deeper
into himself, knees bent, almost at a crouch. He began massaging his butt hole,
unsure of whether the sensation was pleasurable in itself, but feeling about as
dirty as he’d ever felt. He’d never been much of an anal fan, and this beyond
weird. It wasn’t so much the feeling of toying with his own ass that gave him
pleasure, but knowing that she was right beneath him, watching, and getting off
on it.

“OK,” she says suddenly. “Kneel on the bed.”

Without a word he moved forward and knelt on the edge of the bed, his
face and upper body down on the mattress. He was still playing with his ass,
and soon his efforts intensified. He gradually found himself slipping a finger
inside, almost as if exploring, not sure of how to do it.

The reticence didn’t last long, though. Before long he’d found his
prostate and began to tickle it. He had never as much as felt the damn thing
before, and now it was burning with delicious pain, the heat from it running
all the way down his cock, making him groan.

Within seconds he had collapsed forward, bringing himself off,
thrusting himself against the bed, rubbing his cock against the sheets so fast
that it seemed impossible that he’d be able to carry on.

She jumped onto the bed, sat square in front of his face, legs
spread, and showed him her pussy, spreading it for him and letting her fingers
disappear inside. He watched, an expression of amazed delirium on his face, dribble
coming from his mouth as he panted and squealed like a madman.

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