The storm had played itself out and the clouds began to break up to reveal the crimson stain of the setting sun. The air was refreshing and Jud's eyes opened. For a second he tried to place the ceiling that greeted his eyes, and then remembered where he was. Sluggishly, he raised himself to a sitting position, supporting an arm and his head upon one upraised knee.
He looked across at the still sleeping Gillian. As he saw the auburn pillow of hair about her head, the tan nipples and the russet thatch between her thighs, he slowly realized that it was not Jennifer, but his teacher. How strange, he thought. A beautiful, intelligent woman seducing him. And she had seduced him, he puzzled with amusement. Strange, but overpoweringly enjoyable. He felt renewed, confident once again in his masculinity, that he now realized had seemed threatened.
He turned his face toward the windows. Light shone on the pearls of water that clung to the glass, and to the leaves of the trees outside. The soft radiance made it seem more like dawn than dusk.
Jud looked down at his hardened organ, realizing that he had to urinate, and saw the pale paste of his dried spendings, like peeling paint along his shaft and like candle drippings in his pubic hair. He sighed and stood, looking around to walk toward the stairs. He turned at a moan from Gillian and saw her stretch in her sleep, the movement pulling her body back in an arch that stretched her breasts and belly, and raised the front of her thighs. The faint light highlighted the rises of her flesh, the rest blending in with the beige carpet. It was as if she were slowly being born out of the floor.
He moved up the stairs and looked around, trying to decide which door would lead him to a bathroom. With no clue, he reached out for the door knob nearest and pushed the door open. He stood looking into Gillian's bedroom.
He almost closed the door back, feeling that their brief afternoon of purely sexual love did not entitle him to invade her privacy. But curiosity caught him and he did need to use the bathroom. He stepped forward.
A dresser, a makeup table, a book shelf, a double bed, a wooden chest, a padded chair, and open door into the bathroom greeted his view. He moved around the room and stopped in front of the makeup table. A brush, comb, powder, cans of spray deodorant and hair spray, an open box filled with rings, earrings and bracelets, and an assortment of cosmetics covered the surface. Stuck into the frame of the mirror was a picture of a man, Alex, tall and blond who might have been Jud's older brother.
He looked up from the objects to see his body reflected from chest to midthigh in the mirror. He noted the thrust of his shaft and the double bed behind him. He turned and looked at it. A silver blouse and black skirt lay with patterned bra and panties upon the Prussian blue bedspread.
Jud gingerly picked up the blouse, rubbing his thumb against the smooth texture. He dropped it and reached for the panties, his hand faltered, and he picked up the bra. He looked at it inquiringly and sat on the edge of the bed. He raised it to his face and smelled the blend of her perfume and her own fragrance within the soft cups of lace.
He closed his eyes and the scents eased him back several hours to the living room below. He took a deep breath and let the bra drop to the bed. He stood and went into the bathroom.
Flushing the toilet, he shook the last droplets from his softening member and turned to see Gillian standing dream eyed in the doorway. She brushed her mussed hair away from her face, her body a golden glow in the sunset light spilling through the window behind her.
"What'cha doin'," she mumbled sleepily.
"Looking for the bathroom," he answered with an embarrassed smile.
"Oh" she nodded. "Pretty obvious, I guess," she smiled, stretching her arms back with a small yawn. "My turn," she grinned, more awake.
He sat on the bed, laying back. After a minute the plumbing hummed again and she came out. She picked up her brush and, sitting back on the table, looked at him as she brushed out her hair.
"How're you feeling?"
"Fine," he shrugged, not knowing what to say.
"Me too," she smiled and dropped the brush behind her. "You want something to eat?"
He shook his head and she moved closer to him. She stopped between his spread knees. He looked up at her, surprised that he felt no embarrassment at his nudity. Flattening her hands beside his hips, she leaned forward to lay her body along his, and kissed him deeply.
He moved his tongue against hers, his arms sliding under hers so that he could cup her buttocks. Somehow, it seemed that he should feel guilty. He did not, but it seemed he should, though he could think of no valid reason why. Was he being unfaithful to Jennifer, he suddenly wondered. No, regardless of his love for her and his hope that it should be renewed, his desire for Gillian was different and without conflict for him. His hand closed around her breast and he drew her down beside him on the bed.
The ringlets of her auburn triangle nuzzled around the upper length of his sex and, in a moment, it began to harden against the moist warmth of her hillock. Her palms slid over the firmness of his back, and he massaged one saucy buttock, his other hand buried in the fall of hair at the nape of her neck, his knuckles sliding over the downed flesh as he clasped the hair above. She snuggled closer, and she felt his erect member nudging against her slit.
He buried his tongue in her ear, holding her head to his face while he worked the firm roundness of her flank down toward the apex of her thighs with his other hand. She thrust her loins against his prod, which was angled down between their embracing bodies seeking to rise upward.
He dug his knee into the bedding, and with his hold on her neck and derriere moved her full onto the bed with him. There was a roughness in his manner that surprised him even as he swung up into her dewey pit. Even though he knew it was illogical, he still felt that there was something wrong in what he was doing. Finding himself faltering, he decided that she would complain if she did not like his treatment of her. What it was, though, was his frustration over the injustice of life.
After a few strokes he felt his prod push back on itself as he plunged, and hold as he pulled back. He was losing his erection and he looked to Gillian's face. Her eyes flickered open as she came to a halt.
"What's the matter?" she whispered.
"I, uh…" he blushed nervously.
"I know about that, baby," she smiled tenderly. "I meant do you know why?"
"No," he mumbled.
"Don't get upset about it. Happens to every guy at times. Doesn't mean anything," and she was sliding out from under him, easing him over onto his side. "Gillian'll fix you up."
Her lips fluttered over his face, softened against his ears and slid her tongue down in. The warm response slid his eyes shut and his thoughts away. Her hands skimmed over his chest, touching the nipples and curling in the blond hair, and coasted down over the muscles of his stomach to skim her fingernails lightly over the flesh. He tried to move her mouth to his, but it was easing down after her hand, following it down the length of his body to where it brushed over his still soft tool and over the cloud of fine hairs covering his scrotum. Her tongue slid the length of the softened flesh, and she gripped it lightly in her teeth, lifting it to work it into her mouth with a flip of her tongue.
Jud sighed low as she held the whole of his prick in her mouth, shifting it around in the soft moistness, her tongue curving around it. She began to suck, her fingers playing against the weight of his root beneath the sac. He pressed his head back into the mattress, delicious chills rippling up through his body to make him smile with the pleasure of her attentions.
The thoughts of guilt and anger fell away under the soft sweeping of her mouth, and he felt his prod begin to harden again. As it lengthened, Gillian let more and more of it slide out between her lips till she held the lavender poppy of the head in a circle of her lips. She drilled her tongue against the mouth and around the velvet softness, feeling him roll his head toward the curve of her belly and thighs. The longish hair drifted over her hips and thighs, and she felt his breath hot against her flesh.
His mouth touched the slope between the top of her thigh and her belly, opening to suck softly at the firm flesh, his tongue pressing a momentary furrow. Her lips sucked harder at the bulb as she felt the sopping kisses move down the valley of flesh to touch the amber coils. His tongue brushed over it and caught the top of the crevice. She pulled her hips back and pressed her loins forward as his tongue trailed down into the moist valley.
Jud felt the delicate musk of her nook feather his nostrils, and he curved his tongue up, pulling the foreskin from the gleaming pearl eye that lifted up, shimmering. He shifted his mouth and caught the node between his lips, and began to gently suck it in and out, flexing against the surrounding flesh.
She rubbed her teeth against his shaft just below the head as her tongue spun around the swollen bulb. She felt his hands glide over her buttocks, the invisible down rustling under the breeze like touch of his palms and fingers, and slowly they sank against the globes, cutting them to press her dewey fizzure against his mouth. His jaw shifted as he tempered the kernel of hypersensitive flesh, and she felt his chin pressing as if to enter her passage. She let her body stretch with each inhaling of air, and relax with each exhaling, trembling sheets of heat churning up from her split pelt. She sucked in more of his rod and felt the focal point of his attentions blazing.
Her shoulders bunched and her head jabbed against the throbbing totem pole. Higher. Her face lined with the intensity of his concentration on her cut. Higher. Perspiration gleamed between her shoulder blades and in the palms of her hands that clasped his hips. Higher yet. Her leg muscles tightened and her legs curved back as if in a dive. Higher and higher still. Her fingers dug into his hips, and her teeth clipped at the hard staff, and she sucked the head harder, sliding her mouth up and down to take as much of him in as she could, feeling the thin sleeve of flesh slide over the turgid weight beneath. Higher and… there! Her mouth pulled wide with a gasp, and her body bent back uncontrollably.
Jud felt her loins twist against his grip, and his head was whipped back and forth with her hips. He almost lost his hold on the tiny lift of her flesh, but he tightened his hands and kept his face pressed against the misty yield. Her body turned at the waist, and her arms flung wide to grab the bedding, to hold her braced. Her stomach contracted in spasms and then tightened as hard as it could, vibrating with the seizure of her climax. Her turned torso lifted up as her shoulder muscles bunched, and she raised up from the bed screaming, "Jesus!" in a long, ragged tear of breath.
The release dropped her like a tumble of leaves shaken from a tree, all her muscles relaxed, her breath short and fast. Jud looked up at her flushed face, her eyes blinking, her open lips quivering with her breath. He looked down to see the jut of his flesh straining out from him, and he was glad that she bad Dot been able to finish her mouthings. He wanted to finish it himself, to move her up to the next step.
He raised himself up catlike, and eased back to sit with his legs under him. He smiled down at her and she looked at him with a weak smile, her vision blurred.
"Who fixed who up?" she asked in a husky whisper. He grinned at her a moment longer, and she looked at him with a trace of confusion. Then he dropped forward, his still hard column of flesh pressing against her furred envelope, and his fingers shifted the flesh away to let him slide it up into her. Gillian moaned, her nerve endings still tingling from his oral workout on her clitoris. His body began to shift against her mooring, moonlight giving a glow to the room, their bodies pale shadows blurred against the dark.
Feeling physically renewed and invigorated, Jud raised his body as in a pushup. Then his loins began to undulate a flowing rise and fall from knees to shoulders. Gillian started to protest, but he rose and fell with tender precision, angling down along the already inflamed nib of her passion.
Held down only by insertions of his sensual vector, Gillian writhed and twisted below him, her shoulders pressing back into the bedding, her hands flowing up to caress him, her heels digging into the bed, her body moving left to right, her hands clawing the sheets, her back arching up, her buttocks lifting, her weight on her shoulders and the heels of her feet The two bows of their bodies met at their loins, rubbing, pushing, rolling.
"Oh lord, you bastard!" Gillian moaned, her face contorted with the hard, driving rise of pleasure.
"Yeah," Jud grinned through clinched teeth, his eyes squinted with the screaming spirals that flowed from his in bedded tool. The spirals moved faster, ripples from the drop of his stone in her pool. Faster and harder. Faster and they merged till it was a constant wave erupting, trembling his thighs, bringing sweat to his forehead. His eyes squinched shut, the muscles of his arms and back stood out in relief, he gasped for air, weavings of light flickered before his closed eyes, and he tensed his arms to pick up the tempo of his pumping.
Gillian cried out with release as he moved faster and faster, flashing down and up, sliding through the slippery tunnel Then his brain was afire and he lost his coordination, his movements becoming jabs. He yelled, but there was no air and it became a strained groan. His body tremored and spasmed, and he bucked down to flatten her buttocks against the bed. his arms going out from under him, he pressed his forehead down against the hollow of her neck, his jaws wide, and then it was over, and he went limp. Their breathing was ragged, their wet bodies laying exhausted, their eyes shut from the lack of strength and incentive to open them.
Winslow Bass looked at Jennifer's bedroom windows dark for the second night in a row. He was afraid for her, afraid she might have run away or done something foolish. Yet surely her parents, both of whom where at home, would be showing some concern if they did not know where she was. Still, he wished he could help her, wished he knew if she was all right. Well, Winslow, he told himself, you ain't her daddy, so let it go at hoping. It did not really help, but he turned from the window to take a sip of his drink.
she began to stir. He sat beside her on the bed and revolved the center of his palm against the top of one nipple. She stretched languidly and her eyes opened on his smile. She smiled back, sitting up to embrace him. Her lips fluttered and sang at his, and her tongue darted in, her hands holding his back. Winslow set his drink on the floor, and they rolled over into happy moans.
Debra lay sprawled on the bed, the sheets twisted around her spread feet. They had spent a joyous night without television or visitors. Just the two of them in bed, feasting on one another's bodies.
He had awakened a half an hour before, and now she began to stir. He sat beside her on the bed and revolved the center of his palm against the top of one nipple. She stretched languidly and her eyes opened on his smile. She smiled back, sitting up to embrace him. Her lips fluttered and sang at his, and her tongue darted in, her hands holding his back. Winslow set his drink on the floor, and they rolled over into happy moans.