A certain less-than-stable segment of the population was convinced extraterrestrials had disrupted the earth’s natural weather pattern, and were contacting the utility company to voice their fears.
“Nooooo.” Dana expelled her breath as Lon penetrated her cunt with his finger. He worked a second one into her, stretching her passage as his thumb circled her clit, setting the bud ablaze. She grabbed his wrist to still his teasing fingers even as her hips convulsively rocked against his marauding hand. His cock, oozing precum, marked a snail trail on her skin. God, she wanted him inside her. It had been so long. Her pussy spasmed.
“You don’t sound sure.”
Dana gnashed her teeth. “I’m sure. Not wise. I’ve…I’ve got it under control.”
Lon’s soft laughter kissed her ear.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Now
she asks?
Her creaming sex drenched Lon’s hand and her inner thighs while his thrusting fingers made squishing noises as he finger-fucked her. Her rubbery knees threatened to buckle, and she clung to the phone as if it were her lifeline.
“I’m kind of—” Dana covered the mouthpiece as Lon grabbed her shoulders and gently pushed her facedown over the kitchen counter. She gasped as her bare breasts flattened against the chilly granite.
“Lon, my God!” Dana craned her neck to gape at him as a wild excitement unfurled. This was bad. So bad. She shifted her gaze between his face and his erection. The sight of his cock, looking fucking huge, its bulbous head red and glistening, the vein along the underside pulsing, was enough to get her juices flowing, but the devilment in his eyes sucked the wind from her lungs.
He flashed a lewd grin. “Finish your call,” he said and nudged her legs apart.
Dana removed her hand from the mouthpiece. “Claire, I gotta go.”
Lon shook his head. “Finish the call,” he ordered in a whisper. “I want to eat your cunt and then fuck you while you try to keep from screaming into the phone.”
Impossible. Shameless. Indecent. And so exciting, she nearly came on the spot. So what if she could never look her boss in the eye again? She tried to avoid her as much as possible anyway.
Dana swallowed, her heart dancing a crazy jitterbug in her chest. “False alarm,” she said into the receiver. “About those aliens.”
“Don’t you think we should address it proactively?” Claire sounded seriously concerned. Not for the first time, it occurred to Dana that perhaps her boss was one of them—one of the whack jobs. Of course,
she
was the one spread over the kitchen counter like a buffet at a porn fest.
Lon knelt. The air caught in her lungs as he blew his breath against her steaming pussy.
“To attempt to allay concerns”—Dana clenched her jaw to stifle a gasp when Lon parted her pussy lips and swirled his tongue around the bundle of extremely receptive nerves—“by…by raising the issue with the…uh… you know, uh, news media—” His lips slid over her skin, his tongue probed, his stubbled jaw rasped, and Dana’s mind skidded past the words to finish her sentence like wheels spinning on ice, unable to grab traction.
Lon growled and plunged his tongue into her cunt, lapping at her flowing juices. “Wouldonlyhavetheoppositeeffect,” Dana squealed.
“If you’re sure.” Claire usually deferred to Dana’s judgment, although it was decidedly suspect at the moment. All of Dana’s focus shifted to her pussy, where Lon was eating her out like she was his last meal. Engaging in oral sex while on the telephone was the kind of thing a sleazy politician would do, not a middle-class, middle-aged, formerly respectable woman. Which was precisely what made it so exhilarating.
Dana-gate
. She snickered.
“You sound funny,” Chicken Little said. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything…everything…is all right.”
Lon reached for his pants and extracted a condom from the pocket. He tore open the wrapper and slipped it on. Dana licked her lips in remembrance of how his erection had filled her mouth, how her jaw ached to suck so large a cock, and wetness trickled down her bare leg. She shivered with need, with desire, and with a little trepidation at his size—and his newness. Last evening’s moonlight escapade had occurred spontaneously. Now that she’d had time to think, she realized she hadn’t had intercourse since her marriage had soured, and she hadn’t slept with anyone since she’d met Roger.
“I’ve thought about nothing else but you since yesterday,” Lon said. “How you tasted. How wet you got.” He ran his hand from her shoulder to her ass, then slipped between her cheeks to trail his fingers over her quivering asshole to her pussy.
“I remember how you squeezed my fingers as you came and how much I wanted your cunt to convulse around my cock.” Lon’s words and touch stoked her desire, doused her nervousness. She’d lusted after this man, dreamed about him, built not a fantasy but an entire make-believe world in which he ruled. He’d kept her company during lonely nights, warmed her bed, made her feel desirable again, given her hope that somebody would find her attractive. Little had she known it would actually
be
him. Her heart thudded in time with her pulsing clit, the tempo orchestrated by his stroking fingers.
Lon spread her open and guided the thick knob of hard-on to her spasming, dripping pussy. He pressed forward and met with resistance by her unused muscles. More pressure, more resistance, then his cockhead forged inside. Dana whimpered at the pleasurable burn, the tension.
“Okay?” He paused, his hands on her hips preventing her from thrusting the way she wanted. He was allowing her to adjust.
“More. Don’t stop,” she said.
“Don’t stop what?” Claire asked.
The party
. Dana mentally filled in the blank with a song title from the Black Eyed Peas.
Don’t stop the party. Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t. Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t
.
“Party? What are you talking about?” her boss said.
Good God, she said that aloud?
Lon rocked forward and back, burrowing deeper, deeper—Christ, how long was he?—stretching and expanding her tissues until he touched her cervix.
“Oh fuck, you’re snug. So fucking fantastic,” Lon muttered. His cock throbbed, and her muscles answered with a hungry pulse. Dana buried her mouth against her upper arm to stifle her groan of satisfaction as Lon withdrew, then slowly plunged as if knowing her overstretched muscles needed more time to accommodate his girth. They might, but she didn’t.
She’d waited too long for Lon already. Dana needed him to drive into her hard and fast—she needed to hang up the fucking phone. “I can’t do this,” she cried into the crook of her arm.
Lon stopped moving all together. “Am I hurting you?”
“Not. You.” Dana panted. “Can’t. Talk. To my. Boss.” She could hear Claire jabbering away, her voice rising to a panicked pitch. Dana shared her panic.
Lon slipped his hand between her legs and flicked her engorged clit. Fire streaked straight into her womb. Ripples shuddered through her pussy. She was going to come, screaming into the phone at her boss.
“Her name is Claire?” Lon resumed thrusting.
She so did not want to talk about her boss. “Yes,” she forced out through gritted teeth.
Lon pried the phone out of her grasp. “Claire?” he growled. “Dana will call you back.” He pressed End and tossed the handset. It skidded across the counter and crashed to the floor with a satisfying thud.
“Oh God, fuck me. Fuck me hard,” Dana begged.
Lon grabbed her hand and shoved it between her legs. He guided her fingers over the nerve center as if teaching her how to masturbate. Their hands moved together to rub her clit, bumped against his thrusting cock. “Touch yourself like you did in the pool.” His guttural command spiked her desire.
“Hang on, honey.” He fastened his cream-slickened hands on her hips to anchor her as he pounded his cock into her wet depths. His thighs smacked the back of her legs with each forward thrust, the slapping mingling with his ragged breathing and her panting moans. His balls swung against her hand as her fingers flew frantically over her clit.
A tornado whirled within. Light, sound, and touch fused and split, condensed and expanded until her entire body throbbed with the most savage intensity centering in her clit and pussy. Coiled heat. Tighter. Tighter. She wound into a spring. And snapped.
Dana wailed as an orgasm exploded from her core, radiating out to all parts.
Her cunt convulsed around Lon’s pulsing cock as he came, swearing with each ramming thrust.
* * * *
Lon carried the tray of microwaved Chinese food to Dana’s patio, prurient satisfaction welling in his chest. The thought of his kitchen caper was getting him hard and ready for a second round. He hadn’t expected Dana to talk to her boss while he fucked her, but holy crap. She was one hot, wild lady. The noises she made—tried not to make—the way she’d creamed over his hand and dick, had proven how turned on she was. He loved how she’d abandoned herself to the experience.
By its nature, sex wasn’t a chaste act, so why pretend it was? He wanted to get messy, even dirty, with Dana.
Lon set the tray on the table, and Dana came up beside him with two wineglasses. The moon still appeared nearly full, and under its light, her eyes sparkled and her pearly skin glowed, her cheeks flushed with a hint of color.
“I have no idea what I’m going to tell my boss on Monday,” she said in her woody-inspiring phone-sex-operator voice.
“Sorry,” he lied, not the least bit repentant. He recalled his childhood phone pranks—Dana certainly got his refrigerator running! He pulled her to him for a kiss. She yielded against him as he took his fill of her mouth and slipped his hand under her dress to caress her naked ass cheek. She’d left her underwear on the floor where it belonged.
But he needed to feed her so she could maintain her energy, because he was nowhere done with her yet. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand.
“You went all out.” Lon eyed the table she’d set with a cheery cloth, a vase of pink flowers clipped from the nearby poolside pots, and candles. With a striker, she lit them, and he detected the scent of citronella. Lon lifted his shoulders in a self-deprecating shrug. “All I brought was dinner in a box.”
“Several boxes, and it’s what’s in them that counts.”
“I’m sorry I got tied up.”
Dana shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I imagine this is only the start of the demands of being a doctor.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. In his second year of residency, his schedule was still arduous and often erratic. It didn’t leave him much time to date, but for Dana, he’d make the effort.
They settled into their seats, dished up the Chinese food, poured the wine. Lon realized he was hungrier than he’d thought; he’d worked up an appetite. There was none of the first-date awkwardness that sometimes occurred, but of course, they’d already shared intimacies usually reserved for relationships of greater duration.
With a start, Lon realized he was thinking of his time with Dana as a relationship. He eyed his brothers’ tree house. He’d been a little annoyed that his folks had asked him to retrieve the camera. Work had been a bitch that day, and he’d wanted to crash at his apartment. Call it an old wives’ tale, but it was true. The full moon did make people act crazy—the emergency room had been full of injured people, many of whom had gotten that way by doing stupid things.
And then Dana had come out of her house and changed his attitude in an instant.
“This is real, isn’t it?” she mused aloud.
He offered his forearm. “You want to pinch me?”
She smiled, peered at him from under her lashes, and his heart thumped. “I’d better not,” she said. “I might not stop with a pinch. Did you get the camera back to your parents okay?”
Funny how they seemed to be on the same wavelength, her thoughts dovetailing with his. Lon nodded. “The hospital is midway between Lake Eversome and home, so Dad came by to pick it up.”
“My ex and I used to take our daughter camping at Eversome, but I haven’t been to the lake in years.” About seventy miles away, the lake and camping resort was a popular summer destination among locals. It didn’t offer the grandeur of a national park like Yellowstone or Yosemite but provided a fun, quick family getaway. “We used to rent one of the rustic cabins,” she said.
“I haven’t been there in a few years myself, but I think it’s still the same,” he said.
“I’m glad. I’d hate to think it had gotten commercialized.”
Dana’s chest rose and fell, her nipples making delectable tents in her dress. Christ, she had beautiful tits. And cunt. Ass. Hell, the whole package. His cock strained against his zipper.
“What would your parents think about this?” She waved her hands in an arc before resting her wrists on the table. “Us.”
Ah. The age thing. Lon met her gaze. Despite her nonchalant tone, he could tell she was concerned. “This is between you and me. I respect my parents, but I don’t seek their approval. I think they might question our involvement, but they trust me to make my own decisions.” He paused. “How would your family take it?”
Dana gave a mirthless laugh. “After the stink I made, my ex would have a field day. I don’t know how much you picked up from the conversation yesterday, but Roger is having an affair with a girl only two years older than our daughter Katie.”
He had caught the gist of it. What her ex thought he would find in another woman eluded him. The man was an idiot. To Lon’s good fortune.
“Of everyone, I think my daughter would be the most accepting. She didn’t approve of her father’s infidelity, but the age difference wasn’t an issue. ‘Age is just a number, Mother.’” Dana gave a dismissive sniff.
“Your daughter is right. Age
is
just a number.”
“You’re closer to Katie’s age than you are to mine. She’s twenty.”
“I’m not dating your daughter. I’m dating you.” He covered her hand and linked his fingers with hers, noting how perfectly their hands fit together. Almost as good as his cock and her pussy.
“Is that what we’re doing? Dating?”
He leered. “Unless you’d rather make a few phone calls.”
Dana laughed. “I’m game. But we’ll call
your
boss.”