The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies Read Online Free Page A

covering his lower
belly. Losing any reserve he might have had, he holds me in
his arms and kisses me. His kisses are thorough, lips, tongue,
teeth, everything. Moist and warm and fragrant. Not a hint of
halitosis.
    I want to screw, yet want it to last. I remind myself that he
is young, so could probably perform several times in a row,
unlike older men who have to rest after they've shot their bolt.
Even so, 'Slow down,' I say, and tug at his belt.
    The mattress sags as he sits on one side and pulls off his
trainers. White socks follow and then he stands up, wearing
only his jeans. He unzips and peels them off, presenting his
tight buttocks to me, then turning so that I can see the complete
emergence of his cock. What a beauty! It is all that I had hoped
for and more, long, already at full stand, brown-skinned and au naturel. No knife had robbed him of his foreskin.
    'Are you going to let me fuck you?' he asks, with a boyish
grin.
    'Try and stop me!' I growl, and grab him in a bear-hug.
    Common sense prevails and I get a packet from my bag, rip it
open and take out a silvery condom.
    He stands before me and I revel in the pleasurable task of
preparing his rock-hard dick. I lick it from base to tip, concentrating
on the flange, feeling him shudder, hearing him moan,
slurping the milky tears that emerge from the slit. He is oh-so
ready. I take care not to tip him over the edge and lose that
first, fierce rush of spunk. I slip the rubber on from tip to base.
I wish I didn't have to cover that delicious cock but needs
must.
    I keep him on the boil, working my tongue around his peatdark
nipples, closing on the taut nubs, making him gasp. He
takes control, pushing me on my back, parting my legs and
going down on me, his face buried in my wet minge. He holds
my labial wings apart and sucks my clit, drawing it between
his lips. I want to come so badly. He slurps and licks, his tonguetip
giving me divine sensations. My climax breaks and I yell,
bucking on the bed, fireworks exploding in my brain. Then he's
on me and in me, my knees pressed apart, his cock entering
easily despite its size, lubricated by my love-juice.
    It's wonderful and he rides me fiercely, coming in savage
thrusts. I feel his heat filling the condom. He jerks once, twice,
thrice, and then rests his head on my shoulder, breathing
quickly and muttering, 'That was wicked! You're one hell of a
fuck!'
    If I was a cat, I'd purr. What a compliment! My kids would
never believe it. And what about my husband who tells me
I'm too middle-aged and that no one else but him would be
interested in me? I know he's banging his young secretary.
Screw you! I think savagely.
    I'm far from finished with lover-boy, just warming up. 'On
your back,' I command.
    I sit astride him, knees on each side of his body, then go
higher until I'm straddling his face. He gobbles at my cunt
eagerly, his tongue swirling around my engorged clit. I grab
him by that lovely hair, using it as a rein to bind him to me. I
let myself go, another orgasm rising in waves, taking me to
heaven again. I peak, yelling, digging my nails into his scalp.
Then, leaving his mouth, I slither down, impaling myself on
his upwards-pointing prick.
    I take it deep inside me, pumping hard, determined to bring
him off. He flips me over, wanting to be on top, and I clamp
my legs around his waist as he rams harder, releasing a further
hot spurt of come into the condom. It is time we changed this.
I don't want a little accident, although I could always say it
was my husband's. Neither do I want to pick up something
nasty with a long name and fatal results.
    We lie there satiated for the moment. The condom is replaced
by another.
    'You want some more?' He seems surprised and impressed.
    'Am I too much for you?'
    'Hell, no!' he protests, his manhood under question.
    He is utterly charming and I'll have to keep a tight hold on
my emotions. Don't want to turn into a pathetic older woman
who is besotted with her toyboy.
    We drink more wine,