Brittany's Do-Over

That model of bra wasn't meant to be seductive, but right then it was the sexiest piece of lingerie I'd ever seen.

Brittany was not the sort of woman to preen, stretching high and modeling herself for me; that wasn't why she'd gotten her shirt off. It was merely in the way, so she'd removed it before stooping right back down, her hands on my face as she licked at my lips again. Her expression was serious, even grave, her eyes open and curious as she kissed me. When I sent my hands around her body this time I was overwhelmed by the feel of her naked back, the ridge of her spine, the warmth of her flesh, and I couldn't resist the temptation to tickle every goddamn inch. I let my fingers dance all around, up and over her sides, across the bra straps, and she loved it.

I could tell from the way she writhed and sighed, even giggling at one point when my fingertips ran beside her breasts to flutter through her armpit. She drew back, her hips still rocking in little circles; for the first time in that room, I felt my dick poking at her again. "That feels nice," she admitted, murmuring, her whole body swaying. She had her hands on my shoulders, running them beneath my collar, watching me admire her. "A lot of this feels nice."

I opened my mouth, only to find I couldn't speak. Literally. My throat was seizing like a choked engine, totally clogged with lust. She waited, moving snakelike in my lap with her thumbs gently stroking my neck. "Amazing," I choked out. "You look amazing, I mean."

She smiled her grave little smile. "Thanks," she said simply, and then I noticed the goosebumps all over her reddened chest. She looked... I don't know, triumphant? Possessive? I leaned forward, she raised herself up, and suddenly her abs were pressing against my face like a warm wall, her hands stroking through my hair and down the back of my shirt, me planting aimless kisses all across her belly. I was suddenly very aware of a strong, sharp smell, something I hadn't smelled in years, the scent of a woman completely aroused, beyond ready to fuck.

"Mmm," she hummed happily when my hands plowed across the firm curves of her butt, and then she gasped as my fingers found her waistband. She clutched me tighter. I wasn't even thinking clearly as I dragged my hands down, pulling at the yoga pants and the underwear beneath, the skin of her hips exciting me as it appeared. "Yes," she hissed, and then just like that her pants were at her knees, her smell was everywhere, and my kisses were getting lower and lower.

She squirmed when I felt her bush at my chin, and I looked up suddenly; she was gnawing on her lower lip, looking amused and anxious and a little confused, but mostly just horny. She was pulling outward at my shirt, trying to get it off, and I raised my arms as she finally fumbled the top button free. Brittany growled as she finally got the thing off, and suddenly I felt her damp tuft of pubic hair on my chest, high up near my neck. "Goddamn, Brittany," I said, and my voice was strange to me: deeper, almost a croak.

She sounded tentative, like she couldn't trust that the right words would come out. "What are we doing, Mr Kershaw?" But she was rising, her thighs straining as I held them, driving herself higher on my body, and I was sinking into the couch cushions, my whole body slouching lower. I looked up one more time through the shallow valley between her breasts, seeing a flushed face now totally out of control, and then I shuddered with lust and lowered my chin.

She had her legs open as widely as her stretched yoga pants would allow, still moving sinuously, and all at once her pussy was on my face, hot and slick and vibrant. She'd trimmed herself into a short, sharply tapered triangle, the hair down here much darker than it was atop her head, and when I opened my mouth it was like licking a sponge.

Jesus, my brain reminded me, as awed as the rest of me. You're about to go down on Brittany Taylor! Her ass rippled in my hands as I stabbed my tongue blindly toward the hottest, smelliest part of her, and her long quivering exhale in response made her entire body shake. I didn't imagine she'd been eaten out all that often, though in fairness I was just as rusty, lapping frantically, her body humming against me like a tuning fork.

"Fuck!" she bit out, and then I felt her drive hard against me as she gripped the back of the couch. She tasted harsh and tangy and sweaty all at the same time, and it took me several tries to burrow far enough down before I felt like I was doing any good, pushing my nose and tongue desperately forward wherever I found wetness. She was humping my face by that time, desperate gasps gusting from above, and all of a sudden we had one of those moments were everything finally clicked.

It helped that her bunched clothes were finally giving up, the elastic way overstressed and little match for her heaving thighs. She leaned back, arching, serving herself to me on a silver platter, and all at once my mouth was full of skin instead of hair, her hands were tightening on the back of my head, and we fell into synch as my bobbing head and her thrashing body figured out how to match rhythms.

And then, for a few minutes, everything was incredible.

It was all biology now, whatever was left of my brain responding to her smells, her movement, the choked sounds coming from her throat, just as she was responding to mine. I knew nothing but her body, smothering me insistently, loving what I was doing to it and unwilling to back off until she was ready to. I was on fire, my own hips moving vaguely up and down, but I had no time for that now: everything was Brittany. She was the only thing in my world right then, and I was amazed that I was doing so well. Desperately I stiffened my sore tongue, then tipped it sharply upward to the top of her slit, jabbing my face forward, and that's when she started to freak out.

For the next few moments I was licking at a moving target, her hips jumping and shaking erratically in time with her hushed moans, but it couldn't last. She squealed finally, her sweaty body beginning to churn hard against my face, and with a sense of wonder I realized I was giving her an orgasm.

I was very unprepared for this. Brittany tends to be a pragmatic person, keeping her emotions under control, playing her cards close to the vest. The woman who came against my tongue was none of those things. She thrashed powerfully, grunting with gasps that sounded almost painful in their intensity. Her entire body went tense, the muscles of her legs completely rigid next to me, a hand gripping painfully at my hair as I kept my tongue prodding, prodding, prodding against her clit.

"Oh my fucking God," she muttered, her abs pulsing in rhythm with her fast, hard breaths. She was coming slowly down from her high, her body relaxing, and my face came abruptly free as she slumped her nude ass back down onto my legs. I was panting as well, my head resting far back, gulping air. I hadn't realized I was so short of breath. The room reeked. "Sorry about that," she said, a little uncertainly. "I haven't really done that before."

"Could have fooled me." I realized, slowly, that my face wore a massive grin, and then we were laughing together as we got ourselves slowly under control. There was shyness there, maybe even a little embarrassment, but mostly there was just sheer breathless delight. "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm very okay." She seemed a little stunned by the intensity of what her body had just been through. "That was... shit. Uh, thanks."

"Anytime," I replied automatically, but then she was looking at me a little bit strangely and I realized she hadn't put a lot of thought into this whole thing. Like, the aftermath. She was a girl who liked to plan, and now she had no clue what was coming next. "I mean, you know. If you ever want to," I finished lamely.

She did another Brittany Pause, which had a much different effect with her sitting there bottomless, her hair all a mess, her bra askew. I saw one pink nipple trying to pop out. She nodded. "I'll want to," she said quietly. We sat a moment more and breathed, until she glanced down at the tent in my pants. All of a sudden I was aware of pain, or at least discomfort, my hips shifting as much as they could. Brittany, of course, picked up on it. "The couch is better than your office chair, at least," she giggled, "but I think you're less comfortable than I am."

"I know," I grated. "I might just need to, you know, adjust a little bit down there..."

"More than a little." She unclenched her legs carefully, as if testing them to make sure they'd still work, and then slid off me to her feet. "God, I fucking ruined these pants," she mused, looking down between her legs, and then she was shrugging as she eased her clothes down her legs. I watched her undress, my hand providing digging down my pants, and she had no self-consciousness at all as her arms wormed behind her, seeking the clasp on the back of her bra. "Might need to buy new underwear, too."

"Sorry." I was already unzipping myself. Ah, sweet relief! Precum had flooded my boxers.

"Don't be." She stood naked with her natural calm grace, fully recovered now except for the red skin on her chest and a lingering dampness between her legs. I stared at her as I hitched my butt up to get my pants off, my mouth totally dry. "I'm not." She saw me staring, and her flush deepened. "What?"

I rolled my eyes as my pants flew off. "Can you blame me? You're gorgeous."

"Not sure about that," she wheedled, but she was smiling impishly as I sat back, my cock massive between my legs. Her eyes widened. "Well now. If my Pixboox contacts could see me now..." She shook her head at my size. "I should post a picture of your dick. Hell, if I'd have known you liked me that much, I might have kissed you sooner than New Year's."

I nodded. "See? Told you you started it." I'd never been so hard. I felt like a porn star. Brittany was trying not to stare. I decided honesty might be a good policy; she'd figure it out soon, anyway. "Brittany, I'm not sure how long I'm going to last."

Her eyes narrowed, a whimsical grin appearing on her face. "We should go find a bed then, if we're going to." She licked her lips unconsciously. "Quickly. That's the biggest one I've ever seen, by far."

"Ever?" I frowned as I got to my feet, automatically cradling my shaft in my hand. It felt hot and tight. "I thought you were still trying to figure out if you were a virgin."

She arched her eyebrow at me. "I never said that was the first penis I'd seen, Mr Kershaw." She smiled a very, very feminine smile then as she turned to lead me toward a bedroom, her ass smooth and lovely before my eyes. Her body was perfect. "Let's go."

I followed gamely, my mouth dry. Her muscles rippled invitingly beneath smooth, firm skin. "I just hope I won't be too much of a disappointment." She rolled her eyes at me over her shoulder.

"Please, Mr Kershaw. Were you not paying attention back there on the couch?" She winked. "If you did nothing else tonight but sit and watch an infomercial, it still wouldn't be a disappointment." She shivered. "That's a lot to live up to; pressure's on me now."

"I'm sure you'll do fine." My cock was straining well above the vertical as she led me up some dim stairs to a dark door. "Nobody ever uses this bedroom," she announced as she stepped in and flicked on a dim bedside lamp. I looked around at a back bedroom, all bland furnishings and floral prints. Big oak 1990s furniture dominated the place. "This is where I've stayed when I've slept over here."

"Oh," I said, uncertain. I was about to make a massive mess somewhere, and I had no idea whose bed I was going to make it in. She stood a moment, looking around, then turned and sat on the bed, her legs pressed demurely together. We stared at each other for a second, and even though I couldn't think of anything to say, her eyes told me I didn't have to. She fixed her eyes on my cock and then reached her hand out, palm up in invitation. She looked a little bit nervous, but much more determined.

"It's going to be hard for me to disappoint you from across the room," she pointed out gently, and I laughed as I stepped up. My dick felt like it was reaching for her, getting longer and longer as it approached her trembling fingers, and then it was happening: Brittany Taylor was touching my penis.

Her lips worked oddly, suppressing a smirk as she made contact. Her touch was feathery, almost light enough to make me doubt she was touching me at all, but of course I was so sensitive my dick jumped a full inch. She giggled. "You're so hard," she murmured, shaking her head. She looked up, bolder now. "You must really want me."

"You've got no idea," I replied at once, amazed my voice still functioned. She was stroking me so, so softly, almost reverentially, and I closed my eyes with a ragged sigh. It was the best feeling in the world, her little fingers dragging gently along my length, and I took one more step; I did not want to cum in her hand, not like this. I felt as though I could hold out as long as I needed to, if I could only get through the next few seconds...

...except she was leaning forward, her eyes on mine, her mouth opening around my shiny purple cockhead, and I tipped my head back as I felt her breath on my pubic hair, running across my sensitive skin, and I swallowed hard to prevent myself from spraying my nut straight into her throat, then and there. I blinked rapidly, thinking about something, anything else. Brittany tasted me as if she was sampling some sort of expensive dessert: slowly, cautiously, savoring every inch, she locked her lips around my veiny length and, ever so gently, applied her tongue to the bottom.

"Fuck, Brittany," I blurted, and she was staring up at me, my dick disappearing between her lips, and she came away from me with a sudden popping smack of her lips.

"Go ahead, Mr Kershaw," she purred. "We've got all the time we need. You'll just last longer later, right?" She winked, her grey eyes shining in a red and vibrant face, and for the love of God it had been months since I'd had sex with Steph, and she was so gorgeous, and I realized I'd wanted her so damn long, and I trembled a few moments more before I just gave up.

My cock leapt in her hand.

She laughed happily, her mouth in a wide-open grin, as I splattered her from chin to nipples. "Christ!" she giggled, and then she was lolling her tongue out, spraying herself merrily across the face, me gasping and blubbering like a horse at the end of a race. I was horribly embarrassed. The orgasm was black-out powerful, feeling like it came out from my entire body; I was left tingling and shaky, and warm all over.

"Oh shit, Brittany," I huffed. "That was just too much."

"I know," she marveled. "That was impressive!" She was still touching it, not even pulling on me, just letting her fingers rest on my skin. She showed no concern at all that my cum was dripping down her face, splatting from her chin down onto her thigh. She licked absently at her glazed lips. "I've never seen that much come out," she shook her head, and once more I fleetingly wondered just how experienced this girl was.

"Well." I drew a deep breath and stretched my arms high. "I guess we've taken the edge off."

"I guess we have," she agreed. She let go of me slowly, licking at her fingers, the sight of this girl swallowing my semen unbelievable. She uncoiled from the bed and stood there pressed into me, my dick still half-hard and resting against her belly. "You're, ahh... interested in doing more, I hope?" She batted her eyelashes at me theatrically, the left one already crusty, and I burst out laughing.

"You kidding?"

"I know." She gave a bright smile and then stepped sideways. "I have to pee, Mr Kershaw. And I might have to wipe some of this off," she went on, mopping at her chest; she acted like it was totally natural for her to be standing there naked and covered in my cum. This girl was full of surprises. "I'll be right back?"

"Hell yeah," I agreed, and I swear I still wasn't quite going soft. I normally did, after I masturbated, but when that happened I never really had more to look forward to. Now, I had a naked ass retreating toward the bathroom, a beautiful horny girl who wanted me to fuck her, and though it wasn't the iron-hard statue it had been a few moments before, my dick still had a wary tightness to it. I sat there, looking vacantly down at it, unable to believe my luck. I flopped onto my back with my knees over the edge of the bed, listening to the sink in the nearby bathroom.

That's how she found me, with my slimy cock thick and red along my groin. Brittany had wiped herself off, but there was no way I could erase the image of this young lady dripping with my semen. I shuddered, and she stopped at my knees. "What?" She cocked her head. "You cold or something?"

"Just amazed," I admitted, and she smiled.

"No need to be amazed," she shrugged. "I'm the one who feels like she's getting lucky." She climbed easily onto the bed, straddling me, nestling her butt comfortably onto my thighs. Her vagina gaped bright red about an inch from my balls. I felt my cock spasm. She looked gravely down at me, her eyes taking in every flabby inch, and when she spoke her voice had gone all throaty again. "You're a really amazing man, Mr Kershaw. You always have been."

I propped my head on my hands and, once more, found it hard to say anything. She gazed down at my dick, her head cocked cutely to one side, and sighed. Then she looked at my eyes. "I guess you were pretty excited, huh."

I pursed my lips. "I wasn't the only one," I pointed out quietly, and Brittany rewarded me with another flush. Delicately, she reached down and trapped my head between her fingers, like an entomologist examining an interesting subspecies, and turned it to face her. I glanced at her quizzically.

"What?" She raised her eyebrows. "I've only seen, like, four of these. Yours is really nice." She regarded it a moment more, and then glanced up at me. "Is it, uh, going to be able to get hard again?"

I shrugged, still swimming in the lassitude of my orgasm. "If it can't get hard for you, Brittany, it never will." It was a lame sentiment, sure, but true. Besides, I was already feeling it twitch again. I was certain I'd get another erection, and soon. She still had her hand on it, squeezing gently. She seemed mildly obsessed. She looked up at me again, thoughtfully.

"Should I, like, suck it?"

I nearly firmed right back up in her hand. It had been years since I had a blowjob. "Can't hurt," I allowed, forcing myself to sound casual.

She gave a slow, crafty smirk. "I know. It was a rhetorical question, Mr Kershaw." She scooted back, and then dropped gracefully to the floor between my knees. I just watched, mesmerized; it was hard for me to see how anything could top any of this. I felt like I was storing memories; this almost seemed like a dream. She ran her hands up my thighs, feeling the muscles there. "Ready?"

"Sure." I still tried to sound nonchalant. "Ever done this before?"

She scowled. "That's so rude!" She leaned in, and once more I felt the magic of her breath wafting across my pubes. I swallowed. "Twice," she confessed at last. "That's not a lot, for a girl my age." She pushed my legs gently apart; she seemed fascinated by my balls. "You've got some grey hair down here," she pointed out with a grin.

It was my turn to scowl. "Now who's being rude? No, they say grey hair makes a man look distinguished. Dignified."

She arched an eyebrow, looking very adult. "I'm looking at your scrotum, Mr Kershaw. It's not dignified, I'm sorry to say." She wasted no more time, though, lifting my shaft out of the way and taking a deep breath as she dived on in there, her mouth already wide when her head collided with my body. She slurped my sack into her mouth with, perhaps, an excess of enthusiasm, but the sheer wickedness of what was going on was already exciting enough. I groaned; looking down past my hairy chest, I saw nothing but ashy blonde hair, her hand still lifting my dick, and a pair of shoulders moving rhythmically as she nibbled on my testicles.