Ginny Lays Her Claim

“This signal thing is something like what my old friend Carol and I have, though obviously for different messages. It’s great when we’re around strangers or family and want to communicate secrets. You’ll have to meet her,” Ginny explained. Then she said: “It’s O.K., JJ, she’smarried and I’ve known her forever.”

“Oh, one more thing: last week when we did…uh…anal -- when you took me in the ass -- I loved it!” Looking around, she lowered her voice and said: “I’m gonna’ keep myself clean for you back there…”. Momentarily, I pictured her on a toilet, administering an enema.

I just looked at her, emptied the bottle into our glasses, and toasted her mutely. We finished, paid the check, and left, much to the bemused look of the waiter eyeing my discomfort as I rearranged the bulge in my pants.

As I held the truck door open for her, Ginny touched me lightly on the side of my face and fixed me with a gentle look that seemed to assuage my uneasiness. This kid was brutally direct – yet sensitive -- extraordinarily honest…and cunningly perceptive. Finally, she said: “I won’t call you ‘Daddy’ anymore, either.”

On the way back, the radio was playing theAdagio of Spartacus and Phrygia by Khachaturian, a very romantic piece. Staying unbuckled, Ginny began stroking my crotch lightly, then grasped my rod through my trousers. She quickly unzipped me, pulling my cock awkwardly from its refuge and began breathing on it hotly, then she slowly engulfed me in her velvet mouth. Stretching across the seat, she sucked me very softly, moving her head up…then down…with agonizing lethargy. I couldn’t help moaning “Oooooh…ooooooh…,” as she continued her deliberations. She then confined her attention to the head of my cock, moving her mouth no more than two inches up and down, while jacking me with her hand in a twisting motion.

Though the pick-up is higher than most cars, busses and delivery trucks were afforded a ringside seat into the cab as we drove back slowly. Several traffic lights and pedestrian crossings allowed the mildly curious to glance at us, with me gritting my teeth and moaning, as Ginny continued her stately torture of me. A bus pulled to a stop in the curb lane while we were waiting at a light. A very elderly lady looked down into the cab to see Ginny’s head moving slowly up and down on my lap, looked at the sheepish grin on my face and – as the ancient synapses closed in her brain – she covered her mouth with her hand and snapped her head forward to eradicate the carnal image.

We finally got back to the office as I pulled swiftly into the darkened garage. When I switched off the engine Ginny raised her head and looked at me sleepily, still languorously pulling on my prick. “You haven’t cum, sweetie,” she whispered. “Maybe we should do something else.”

At that she pulled off her blazer and tossed it in back. Her top was, again, sleeveless, and my breath caught as her stunning upper arms shone ivory in the dim light. Then she looked me directly in the eye -- smelling her finger to indicate her wish -- and unzipped first one, then the other of the zippers on the front of her jeans. Freeing her ankles the same way, she quickly doffed the jeans and peeled off what I saw were wine-colored, french-cut panties, with a dark stain on them. They made a sound like adhesive tape being removed as they broke contact with her crotch. Her musky smell filled the truck’s cab.

I reached for her, cupping her sopping mound, and pulled her toward me for a kiss. She whispered, “No, you come here,” as she stood on her widespread knees. I slipped off my jacket and tugged down my pants and shorts with ease. Sliding over, with her knees straddling me, we feasted on one another’s mouths, our tongues swirling and stabbing at one another. “Oh, JJ, I’ve never wanted you more than right now,” she gasped.

I grabbed the handle on the right of the seat that lowers its back. In a second we were almost prone, with me on the bottom. My hands greedily poured over her bare skin, covering her silken hips, legs and thighs with the gentlest strokes. Then I soundlessly urged her to turn around so her back was to me, with her sitting on her knees as she thrust her beautiful butt toward me. I could see between her legs, up at their juncture, the rear portion of her wet, pink, inner labia, beckoning to me in a small, inverted “V.” I wasted little time in splitting that tasty little organ with my rampant cock, now extremely angry for having been hard since lunch. “Gnnnk,” I grunted as Ginny’s pulsating, hot little slit accommodated me.

Then, we began a simple ballet, with long, smooth strokes stopped only by her cervix and my wish to keep my cock head in her moist heat. We lavished one another with easy grinds, matching the somnolent strains of Berlioz’sLove Theme from Romeo and Juliet, which was on the radio. I held her muscular ass in both of my hands, guiding her up, then down, onto my rigid pole, marveling at the simplicity of the movement and the burning pleasure it yielded.

Her juice was very thick. As I looked at my staff sinking slowly into her, on pulling out I saw the liquid congeal into very light gray gobs of stuff that looked like custard. My hand passed around my cock, fingering her up to her clit, and I brought it to my mouth. It was tangier than usual. Possibly because of her medication, or her cycle, I thought. Ginny was by this time moaning continuously. She was venting her own brand of sexual jargon. Her muse was stimulating her to please me verbally: "Oohh, JJ, you fuck me so good…I just can’t get enough of you…just fuck me…like that, oh yeah, JJ, you’re so good. Oooohhh, JJ, it’s so fucking good slow like this. I can feel you all the way inside…yeah…there. Oohh, I want you in there too. Will you? Oh, baby, please cum all the way inside me!”

It was getting awfully hot. Even though we were in the underground garage, the afternoon was stifling and the windows had begun to steam up. But it didn’t bother us. We didn’t really notice it, since we were on our way to climactic bliss. We gradually increased our tempo, with perspiration

beading on our foreheads. Slowly, the wine we’d consumed was releasing its hold on us as Ginny began clawing the dashboard. Grunting in her own unique way, she began to crunch her drooling cunt down onto my rod: “Ooo, gonna’ cum. Gonna’ cum, JJ. Please cum with me. Mmh…mmh…mmh…uh…ughh…uh…oh, Jayyy…Jaaay…oh, God, aaahhg,” Ginny screamed, whipping her hair from side to side.

“Aaarghh, shit, oh, fuck, Ginnnny! aaah…aaah!” I bellowed, answering her request with a paralyzing final thrust of my own, as my load surged from my bloated scrotum upward into her receptive, clasping cunt, forcing millions of sperm past her cervix into her womb. When my balls were emptied, I shuddered and moaned, repeatedly, as I clutched my petite lover back to my chest.

It took more than a minute for us both to come to our senses as I kissed the back of her neck and nibbled her earlobes, licking softly. Ginny just continued coming down, moaning a sweet litany of senseless mewlings. At that point we both saw her at once: Erica, standing on the raised concrete landing outside the elevator that fed the upper floors. She was watching us with a studied concentration, chin on one palm as her arms rested on the metal railing. It was as if she

were observing a couple of microorganisms probe at one another on the glass slide of a microscope. Ginny yelled first: “Oh, JJ, shit!”

As I uttered an “Aww, fuck!” Erica smiled knowingly, turned slowly around and -- entering the elevator as the door opened -- disappeared from sight.

Ginny began blubbering, “Oh, JJ, that was sooo good, and she ruined it! Why did she just watch us?” Turning and grabbing me for comfort, she buried her face in my shoulder as her little frame was wracked with sobs.

“Easy, honey,” I tried, as my mind searched for some reasonable, soothing, answer. “Let me handle Erica. Now, let’s straighten up and walk around to the studio to calm down. Nobody’s there this afternoon.”

In the photo studio I drew the curtains on both locked sliding doors, allowing light through only the expansive skylights. In the center of the large room is a large, raised platform – about 8’x8’ – that we use as a stage to photograph home models and other items. On it today was a large futon covered with a light blue cloth used as a backdrop. I urged Ginny to relax on it as I made coffee.

Joining her, I rubbed her back as she stretched out, trying to relieve her tension. Murmuring soothing little nothings to her, I reflected back on the scant seven days that I’d known her. What a ride it had been!

At the moment I had no idea how I would resolve having been busted by my neighbor. What I did know was that I desired more than mere quickies with Ginny. I wanted to spend more time with her in future assignations. I’ll tell you about those sometime. Finally, my conscience bothered me a little bit, having allowed this dalliance to get so out of hand, but of course one’s conscience is always the thing that hurts when your other parts feel so good.