Marine House Movie Night

What did almost shock Neal was that both Jorge and the captain were looking at him, Neal. The youth's face showed glazed, pleasure-filled eyes. The captain was looking at Neal with amusement, almost an invitation, a proposition, a challenge, Neal thought.

After standing there, watching the captain fucking Hector's son for a full minute, Neal turned and walked out of the kitchen. He crossed the living room, where the film had been fixed and a full-scale, quite noisy attack on a Taliban camp was under way on the screen. He continued to the hallway door back to the bedroom wing, where, in the doorway, he was shouldered aside by a strapping, red-haired, ruddy-complexioned young Marine. It wasn't purposeful; the Marine's mind was a million miles away. There was a silly grin on his face, and he was still pulling up his zipper and tucking in his T-shirt.

Neal stopped in the doorway of the bedroom he'd visited before. Maria was sitting at the desk, putting a hair comb in her hair. She was wearing the red panties and spike heels, but otherwise was still naked. Her breasts hung heavy and full on her chest. Her full-bodied black hair tumbled down her back. She was beautiful, even at forty something. More beautiful now, perhaps, than when she was younger. Her skin positively glowed from the effect of the pleasure she'd been getting from hard, young bodies.

Maria saw him in the reflection of the mirror above the desk, and her face opened up into a broad, coquettish smile. She stood, turned, slowly pushed her panties down off her legs onto the floor, and stepped out of them.

Neal wasn't the least bit reluctant or embarrassed. He was young. His body was hard. And his cock was bigger than most—getting even bigger just this moment. The Marines had nothing on him. He had asked the station code clerk about the night possibilities earlier today because he wanted exactly this—and maybe just a bit of something else as well.

"On the chair or the bed?" she asked. "Or for you, maybe you'd like to lap me standing in the center of the room? I think you could manage. Are you a Marine too? Where have they been hiding you?" The voice was as Neal had remembered. Rich, low, husky, and oh so sexy.

"No, I'm not a Marine. I'm just passing through. Looking for a little entertainment."

Visions of a chandelier and the spikes of red heels digging into the ceiling tiles flipped through his brain. He laughed, and she followed his with a low, throaty laugh of her own.

She was sitting on the bed, leaning back on her elbows, the tips of her rich, black hair touching the surface of the bed behind her, and her legs spread, a hand reaching and rubbing her clit, as Neal unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper.

She gasped for him, as he had assumed she would. "Oh, sweet jesu. Come to Momma."

Yes, you can be my momma tonight, Neal thought.

"We can begin on the bed and maybe become more adventuresome later," he said.

Maria's red spike heels were moving in tight little circles high and to the side of the two humping bodies, as Neal's the controlling movements of fists clutching her ankles matched the rhythm of the thrusts of his cock deep inside her. She had arched her back and was groaning and telling him he was the best of the evening, which Neal took as a real compliment, considering . . .

He felt the hands on his hips and the deep bass voice whispering in his ear. "Am I supposing wrong? You were watching Lamont and me as much as Maria earlier—and you watched me with Jorge just now at length. I thought I saw the interest in your eyes."

"No, you were not wrong," Neal answered as he turned his face to the blond Marine captain's. Their lips were locked, covering Neal's groan, as the captain's long, upcurved cock slid up into his channel and his hands came around Neal's chest to catch each of Neal's taut nipples between a thumb and forefinger, sending a stab of arousal through Neal's body.