Sensualist Pt. 02 Ch. 12

I began slowly enough. Her vag sucked at my dick, clutching at it, sticking to it as long as possible before I managed to draw all but the tip out of her.

"Wha ...?"

The rest of her words were swallowed when my downward thrust came, driving the air from her abundant lungs.

I continued hammering away at her and she was sucking in ragged gasps of air while her tongue hung out of her drooling mouth and the whites of her eyes sightlessly studied the ceiling.

As my legs slapped against her supple ass with every downward stroke I don't know where Christine was at that moment in time, but she wasn't in the room with the rest of us.

About then she began her return. A series of snorts was followed by quiet whimpering. I was being extra rough on her, but I sensed it was exactly what Christine wanted.

And so I went on pummeling her, my hips slamming into her pelvis again and again. Her inner walls hugged the circumference of my prick and slick, squishy sounds echoed across the room each and every time I pulled back.

I was rapidly tiring, and sought to hasten her release before my own; I was soaked with sweat and of course, the previous exposure to Noreen's and Christine's ejaculate. Then too, my wanting this to be special for Christine--special in that she'd remember it fondly for the rest of her life, but knowing I wouldn't last much longer presented a big problem.

I pulled out much to Christine's chagrin.

"Wha ...?" she croaked, but that's as far as she got for I flipped her onto her stomach, flat on the floor, jammed a pillow under her chin and then set her up on her hands and knees.

I allowed myself a brief moment to gaze upon her phenomenal ass, apple-shaped and lovely with curved hips flared perfectly around a pair of shapely cheeks. I reached down and spread those cheeks with my thumbs to gaze upon the wrinkled little hole set between them, which my finger remembered well.

"You're not ...?"

"No, but I'm going to get us both off in a big way."

"then give it to me!" she growled through gritted teeth as she flicked her head around, blonde hair flying, to glower fiercely at me.

I slapped her ass with my open palm, a vicious swat that was certain to sting, but did not remove my hand, my fingers kneading her supple flesh.

"Ohhhhh!" she whimpered, and wiggled her hips. Christine was vibrantly alive beneath me, squirming and pushing back at me, aching to be filled once more.

Her whimper turned into a growling demand: "Do what you promised to do--and do it now!"

I took hold of her ass cheeks, positioned my cock at her entrance and drove into her sopping wet honey hive. The first two strokes were moderate in speed, the next two dozen or so were at warp speed, dizzying the both of us.

It got rougher when I yanked her head back by pulling on her hair. I was reminded of the wood carvings gracing the bows of ancient ships with the woman's face and breasts embracing the seas the ship plowed through.

She moaned.

Off in the distance I heard others making sounds of all kinds: envy, impassioned pleas, and compliments on our performance. I took it to mean that the others had all stopped to watch us, and took even more pride in my performance.

So I began my final assault, thrusting harder and faster. I mustered so much force that there were times Christine's knees were lifted off the ground. And then it happened. Christine's arms buckled and her face fell forward smashing into the pillow--leaving her arms flat on the floor and out to her sides. I continued fucking her, catching glimpses of her with tongue lolled out as if she had reached the limit of her stamina. My fingers flittered over her clit as my prick savaged her cunt again and again.

It was a catastrophic climax: the muscles of her pussy clenching and relaxing and clenching again as spasms wreaked havoc between her legs and upon her body, and she creamed all over my cock, triggering my own release, which while formidable could not compare to hers. Once my cock left her sheath Christine's body went through a series of violent contractions. A torrent of ejaculate rushed in an arc from her cunt. My cock was no longer inside her, but in my hand, as I squeezed the last remnants of sperm from it , letting it drip onto her thighs in a very weak response to the drenching she was giving me.

When Christine was able to make a coherent sound, it was laughter that I heard. A delightful tinkle at first, then it grew into a raucously lewd laugh that couldn't be construed as anything but lusty satisfaction.

I took in Christine's glistening body where she lay close to me. So slim and delicate and curving in all the right places, and etched the image into my brain, thinking it would likely be the last time I would see it.

"Thank you," she whispered with a dazzling smile, though she did not open her eyes.

"You're welcome," I said, and for many reasons.

And then I became aware of another presence, for looming over us was her husband, Vernon.

"Christine?" he said.

"Mmmm ... is that you, Vern?"

"Yes, can you sit up, dear?"

"I think ... Oh maybe you can help me a little?"

He helped her into a sitting position, propped some pillows behind her back for additional support and glared at me for a second.

It was a long second, but that was it as far as it went between us.

Christine began to crawl to the leather couch, declining Vernon's help. I remained in place, thinking any intervention on my part might worsen things between them.

Christine leaned back against the arm of the couch, showing off her terrific chest before Margo handed her bra. I gaped at those lovely breasts for the last time while she placed them into their respective cups and then fastened the hooks behind her back with an ease I've never been able to understand.

"You were terrific, Chrissie," Dianne said, sounding awestruck. "Was it as good as it looked?"

"Yeah, it was ..." Christine replied and looked my way and smiled.

"Yeah ... it was." She said again, and that was the last time our eyes ever met.

Kimmie and amber were the only ones to come over to me, asking if I was okay. I appreciated their gesture, but it wasn't really needed. I knew the party was over.

The others began gathering up their clothing and then to dress. I followed suite, and as just about everyone was finished--Christine and Vern had already left--I thought it necessary to say something--anything in my defense, if indeed I needed defending.

"Ah, listen everyone. What happened here tonight happened. I hope I haven't damaged a marriage. I mean... I distinctly heard him say that I should fuck her silly, you know?"

"You certainly did," Ella said with a caustic laugh.

"Ah ... yeah. Well I certainly hope you'll call on me for any future events like this one. But I certainly understand if you decide not to invite me too."

"We'll keep that in mind, Donald. Thank you," Ella said. "You performed admirably, but may have done irreparable damage to a perfectly good marriage."

"Nonsense, Ella," Margo said, jumping in. "He's guilty of nothing more than doing what was asked of him. And to my way of thinking he did that very well."

And so I left with mixed feelings about attending any future squirting parties; and of course with no hope of being with Christine again.

I did encounter Christine again, about six months later. She gave me a big smile, said "Hello," and went on her way. I made no effort to speak to her, nor did I follow.

I was never invited to another squirting party, but more about that in the following chapter.

Adieu for now.