The wife's doggy position

CHAPTER FOUR

After Molly had left the cocktail lounge, Carla had a few more drinks with the man who'd joined her. His name, he said, was Sam, and he was from out of town on a business trip. He made a point of telling her that he was staying in a hotel nearby. He obviously wanted her, and Carla made no attempt to play hard to get. Sam was a pretty good-looking guy and, furthermore, when he had danced with her, she had felt his swollen prick pressing into her belly. It seemed like a nice, big one.

Carla hadn't been fucked for some time now, by a man or a dog, and she was in the mood for some casual sex. That was the one drawback about no longer being married, she figured. When she'd lived with her husband, there was always cock available. True, he hadn't been a great lover, and she enjoyed the variety that she had been getting as a single girl but, still, she had to go out looking for it. Sometimes, she just felt like staying in bed and having it supplied to her without all the bother of finding a man. She was tempted to buy a dog, in fact, since the collie was not always available when she felt like getting fucked. But things seemed to be working out well today, and she figured she would get a nice afternoon's fucking from Sam.

When he suggested that they go back to his hotel room for a quiet drink in privacy, Carla gave him a knowing smile.

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" she asked. Since she had been rubbing against him in a very lewd manner on the dance-floor, Sam thought that she was just the sort of girl that he hoped. But when she asked him, he stammered.

"Err… I didn't mean… that is…"

But Carla gave him a wink.

"That's okay," she said. "I am that kind of girl."

So back to his hotel they drove.

Sam went through the motions of pouring them drinks, but they didn't bother to drink them. He sat beside her and, soon enough, the glasses were on the floor and they were in a passionate embrace. His mouth ground on hers, and when her lips parted, he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Carla sucked on it, then twined her own tongue with it, like two serpents mating in a moist cavern. Jabbing tongues back and forth, they were panting into each other's mouths.

He placed a hand on her tit.

She arched, pushing her firm tit into his hand as she squirmed against him. He felt her nipple grow rigid in his palm.

Sam began blowing in her ear and licking her neck. He unbuttoned her blouse, then slipped his hand inside. She wore no bra. He began to knead and fondle her tits. Then he slid a hand up under her skirt.

Carla's legs parted immediately.

Sam played with her pussy through the soaking crotchband of her panties. Slipping his hand inside, he began to caress her naked cunt, fingering her clit and rubbing her fuck slot. Sam thought that she had the hottest, juiciest cunt he had ever handled. He was looking forward to shoving his cockmeat up her smoldering hole. The man had a raging hard-on by this time and, to his delight, Carla began to fondle his cock and balls through his pants. Sam appreciated a woman who was eager for it, who didn't mind taking the initiative. He would never have married a girl like that, or anything, but he preferred them for casual encounters when he was on the road.

His prick bucked like a bronco.

Carla began to open his fly, drawing the zipper down a little at a time, teasingly. Then, pulling it all the way down, she reached in to haul his prick out. She held his fuckshaft in her fist and worked her thumb against the sensitive point where the thick stalk flared out into the wide knob of his cockhead. She fingered his piss slit, then cupped his balls, squeezing gently as if to find out just how much of a load of jism they contained. He was slipping three fingers up her pussy. She jacked him a little.

"Let's get our clothes off," she suggested.

Without waiting for Sam to reply, Carla slid out of his embrace and, standing in front of him, she began to take her clothing off. Sam watched her with admiration. The brunette disrobed like a stripper, teasing him, revealing her body a little at a time. She was lean and trim, and her cunt was a dark jungle divided by a sluggish river. Glistening ribbons of cuntjuice streaked her inner thighs. She pushed her hips out, her legs parted, thinking that Sam might like to give her soaking pussy a little tonguing to start with. But then, when he just gazed at it, instead of going down on her, she shrugged and knelt in front of him. She began to undress him. His cock towered up before her face.

She ran her tongue up his prickshaft.

Cum bubbled from his piss slit and trickled down his cock, and she lapped it up, gathering the sticky slime on her tongue.

But then Carla drew back and pulled his pants off, too eager to get a cuntful to take much time licking him. She stood up, took him by the hand, led him to the bed, then sat down. He stood over her and she licked his cockhead a little more, then dropped back, her knees lifted and her thighs parted.

"Fuck me, Sam," she whispered.

His prick jolted like a recoiling cannon.

He got on the bed, kneeling between her widespread legs. Taking his cock in hand, he guided the tip to her cunt. Carla writhed about in happy expectation. He worked his pricktip around in her fuck slot for a moment, stirring her with it. Then he braced his knees, his ass whipped forward, and he buried his big prick balls-deep up Carla's steaming pussy.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Ooooh!"

The sound was soft and drawn-out as she thrilled to the feeling of having her hot cunt stuffed full of stiff prick. He held the deep penetration, savoring the joy of having every inch of his huge cock sheathed in slippery cunt. His hands slid down, then cupped her under the ass, tilting her pussy up as he prepared to start fucking into her. Carla had one arm around his shoulders. Reaching down with the other, she held his balls. Her thighs clamped around his flanks, and her pussy muscles began to work on him, sucking and dragging on his buried prickmeat. Sam still hadn't moved.

"Fuck," she moaned. "Fuck me!"

Carla was staring up into his face. She saw him grimace with lust. His teeth gleamed as his lips drew back from them, so that he seemed to be snarling like a beast. His eyes seemed to be glazed. His breath came panting out.

Carla thought she was going to get a long, lovely fuck out of a man who seemed so aroused.

He drew his prick slowly out until only the big, flaring head was still in her pussy.

He paused, shuddering.

Carla waited eagerly for that furious fucking to begin, her loins yearning for friction, her clit throbbing with the desire to have his fat cock rub over it as it sped in and out. He was still poised there on the first stroke. Her cunt muscles were working like a velvet vise, clamping closed around his cockhead.

"Fuck me!" she wailed. "Pour the prick up me, honey! Fuck the ass off me!"

Then Sam plunged in.

He buried his cock to the root.

And shot his wad on that very first stroke!

Carla felt his hot jism rush into her cunt, and she ground her pelvis wildly against him, adoring the sensation of being filled with a man's jism, her pussy milking him.

But he had stopped fucking.

Sam had never started, really. He had just given her that one fast stroke and emptied his balls.

Now, to Carla's horror, his cock was starting to soften and diminish inside her. She made her cunt pull on it, but to no avail. His prick got smaller and softer. It had collapsed completely. She still had his balls in her hand and they, too, had gone down like a punctured balloon. She gazed up at him in surprise.

Sam looked sheepish.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Afraid so," he mumbled.

"You're a premature ejaculator?" she asked, dismayed.

"Always have been," he admitted.

"But… but… won't it get hard again?"

"Naw… not for a couple days," he told her. "Sorry."

He pulled out. His prick was reduced to a mere nubbin, retracted back into his loins, hardly a prick at all. Carla was desperate for more action. Leaning down, she began to suck and lick his shrunken knob of cockmeat. It was more like sucking on a clit than a prick.

And it did no good.

Suck as she would, it refused to grow.

She raised her head and gave him an accusing look.

Sam gave a little apologetic shrug.

"Well, look, how about going down on me?" she asked. Surely he owed her an orgasm! Surely he would be willing to eat her out?

"Naw, I don't like to do that," he said.

Carla was trembling with anger now, as well as need. "Well, how about finger-fucking me, at least?"

Sam grimaced.

"To tell you the truth," he said. "I lose interest in pussy, once I get my rocks off."

"You bastard!" she cried.

Sam blinked, then shrugged again and moved off the bed. Carla's pussy was burning. She had to get her cunt milked. She began to play with her clit and to push three fingers up her fuck hole. The brunette figured that it might turn Sam on to see her doing that to herself. But Sam had obviously spoken the truth. He looked at her for a moment, then turned away and began to put his clothing back on.

Carla sighed with frustration.

She closed her eyes and leaned back on the bed, arching her supple body. She began to use both hands on her pussy, fingerfucking herself with one and rubbing her clit with the other. Sam ignored her. After a few minutes, she began to moan and pant, and then her cunt melted, creaming over her hands.

But it didn't make her feel much better.

Imagine getting fucked with one stroke!

Imagine going to bed with a man, and still having to resort to her own fucking hands!

Carla, furious and frustrated, got up and began to dress. She glared at Sam. He didn't seem to give a damn. He had poured himself another drink now and was obviously waiting for her to go.

She called him a bastard again, on her way out.

Carla sure hoped that the neighbor's collie was available when she got home.