Erotic
2006-01-11
We were lovers for a few winter months. Madeline had long red-brown hair that hung almost to her waist, and she described herself as "a lady from the waist up, a peasant below". She was 26. Her breasts were small and her shoulders and arms were slim, but her hips were broad, and her ass was - not fat but- ample. Her legs were strongly muscular - she'd been a cyclist - but her pussy was extremely slack after bearing 2 children in rapid succession and failing to get her cunt muscles back into shape. I don't suppose the bike seat had helped much either. I visited her whenever I could, we'd drink wine, smoke dope and fuck all evening, fall asleep, fuck again before dawn, and after breakfast I'd drive away with a feeling of happy, empty exhaustion in my loins. She made no demands, and was always available when I called, though she probably had other lovers. I didn't ask and she didn't say. Her slackness was almost an advantage, as it meant I took ever so long to cum when we fucked. It was almost as if we weren't quite touching, just a featherlight hint as I thrust in and out of warm damp air. We never used condoms, I don't think I would have been able to cum at all if I'd had one on, the sensations were so slight. She could cum, noisily if her kids weren't at home, in muffled silence if they were.
After she'd cum enough, if I still hadn't blown my load, she'd finish me off with an expert hand-job, watching in fascination as my spunk squirted out all over the place. She didn't seem to mind where it went - on her, on her hair, on her nightdress, on the pillow, on the sheets. One night while her kids were away, we shared a tab of acid, and spent the whole trip in bed.
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I remember clearly her sitting astride me as I lay on my back. She liked cowgirl, she liked to ride bikes and she liked to ride me. She was dressed in an oversized angora sweater and long loose crinkly indian cotton skirt, no underwear, the skirt spread out over me, my dick inside her pussy. She was so loose, I felt as if her cuntlips were trying to eat my balls. I thought I could get dick, balls and all up inside her. She rocked back and forth on me for ages. Sometimes I'd lose the plot and drift off into the music, or a candle-flame, but always came back with a jolt to realise she's still astride me, rocking gently. Sexy, but so slack it wouldn't make me cum, just warm and wet and comfortable. The angora came off, and I played for ages with her nipples, till she started riding me with more intent, but still neither of us was getting off. I asked her - have you cum yet? No, not yet.
Me neither, I said, stating the obvious. I was feeling around under her, tickling her asshole, feeling her soaking cuntlips spread around the base of my dick. I probed around our joined sex organs, slipping a finger inside, then two, then I found I could get two fingers and my thumb up inside her, around my dick. She gasped, I was finally filling her up. I got a third finger inside.
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I gripped my dick, and started wanking it while it was still inside her. She looked like a life-size doll sitting on me, and I was wanking myself off while watching her tits. This was a thrill in itself, I'd always been shy about wanking, never did it in front of anyone, and here I was jerking myself off while she sat astride me, with her warm wet cunt all around my dick and my hand. I must have been rubbing against her G-spot as well, for she started thrusting against my dick-and-hand, and I wanked and she fucked and started moaning, roaring, yelling - stuff like "Fuck Yeah God Fuck I'm cummmmmming. . . . . . " - and I made sure of myself too, wanking the cum out of my dick in a great squirt up into the wet hollow inside her, as she soared over the crest of her own orgasm and collapsed onto my chest. We stayed like that, and gradually I could feel my cock soften and shrink in my hand, still inside her, and a warm dribble of my spunk ran down out of her, over my fingers and over my balls. That was the best time, but by no means the last, now that I'd learned that to fuck her properly, I just needed to lend us both a hand. .
