It felt good. Great, actually. Great to be back in her own shower with hot water washing away all her cares. Christina had been a wreck on the flight back to her home town. But now she had the afternoon off, and she was going to totally enjoy herself and not do one fucking thing constructive.
As she soaped her fat tits, noticing with indifference that her nipples had gotten hard, Christina tried to recall all the strange things that had happened in Boston. Yes, it all came back to her, and she felt a twinge of pain in her ass.
The pain was psychosomatic and acted as a reminder of that vicious patrolman and how he brutally raped her ass. But through it all she had some fond memories. Memories of the way she came when the older cop was fucking her, and she was trapped, knees pushed against her upper body, hands secured behind her back – completely vulnerable. There was something special about the incident. Something dangerous, devilish and terribly erotic.
What was it that made her remember the scene with horror and fondness? Was it the handcuffs? Was that it? Or was it the exhibitionism of it all? The possibility of getting caught? Christina thought of the special thrill she felt as she sucked Bob's cock in Boston Commons, knowing at any minute that someone could walk up and catch them.
What was it that thrilled her so much? She started to finger her tit absently, just because she thought about the evening in Boston.
Christina started working the New York flights, but she wasn't in the mood for fucking around, so she stayed with stewardesses from other airlines and made a point of telling any man who got near that she was quite happily married and not in the least bit interested in anyone else.
But a week later, the juices in Christina started flowing again, those lusty juices that started at her cunt and seeped into her mind until she stared at the crotch of any good looking man around. Will had been particularly busy at the hospital – or so he said – and Christina really didn't see much of him. And that, she decided, was okay for now. She wasn't ready to spill the beans about watching Betty suck his cock yet. Not just yet.
Christina didn't have to work on that Wednesday afternoon and she was happy about it. She grabbed her swim suit – a blue bikini made of thin material that barely covered her huge tits and pleasantly rounded ass – sunglasses, towel and tanning lotion. She would spend the day at the beach. She knew of a spot where, secluded from the main public beach, she could walk down a narrow trail through the trees and be by herself.
Christina parked the car, pausing for a moment to look at the crowded beach. There were fifty or so kids running in the sand, playing to their heart's content. And the parents, most of them on towels with coolers nearby, watched with disinterest.
She grabbed her towel in which her bikini and lotion were secured, then headed for her special spot where she often went to tan. As a child, she had gone there often, skinny dipping with her girlfriends and talking about growing up, and what it would be like. The Prince Charmings of their dreams most assuredly had changed drastically since those days, and that brought a slight smile to the stewardess' lips.
Prince Charming. Christina figured the handsome and romantic figure of yesteryear would probably be a fag in the Eighties. Somewhere along the line, Christina had grudgingly changed from an idealist to a realist. She wasn't particularly happy about that.
Christina was pleased to find that in her little clearing, where the grass had been trampled down by young couples necking, there was nobody to disturb her peace and quiet. On the lake, there were several boats speeding by with skiers behind them, and she wondered if they could see her. Probably not, she decided, and with that, she grabbed the bottom of her light pull-over shirt and brought it over her head, next her bra came off, and she stood there for a moment, watching the boats and feeling the sun warm her tits. Finally kicking off her shoes and wiggling out of her fashionably tight jeans, Christina once again stood facing the lake, completely exposed to anyone who might be lucky enough to look in her direction.
Soon the game became a bore and she put on her bikini, spread out her blanket and lay down. Christina spread the tanning oil over her arms, shoulders, belly and legs and was, within minutes, sleeping soundly.
His name was Curt, and he had, in his self-pitying way, considered himself the unluckiest boy in the world. Girls his age just didn't pay any attention to him, and even though he spent his week's salary on an evening's date, poor Curt never dated the same girl twice.
Curt had just been rebuffed by a girl and belittled by a boy his age. That was what drove him to walk down the secluded path, seeking comfort in solitude. Then he came upon the sleeping beauty. Her brunette hair splayed out on the blanket like the headdress of a mythological Goddess, and her voluminous tits rose and fell slowly with her shallow breathing. Her flat stomach glistened with oil in the brilliant sunlight, as did her smooth legs. There was a slight swell in her skimpy bikini where her triangular cunt bush was.
His breath caught in his throat. Curt's mouth went dry, and he tried to swallow but couldn't. He felt like a Peeping Tom, and something inside his head warned him to run like hell, but his legs felt like lead.
"Is someone there?" Christina asked calmly, never opening her eyes. She could feel someone's presence near.
"Y-yes, ma'am," Curt replied, wishing his voice didn't crack so whenever he was nervous.
"Good. Make yourself useful, will you, darling? I need lotion on my back now."
Christina rolled over and the frightened boy watched her tits flatten under her body, making her luscious tit-mounds look even larger than before.
"Well, come on then. Don't be slow."
Christina took off her large-lensed sunglasses and cradled her head in her arms. The boy would do quite nicely, she decided, after casting a quick peek in his direction.
Curt was trembling as he straddled Christina's body and then rested lightly on her ass. He expected her to scream and call for help – maybe even cry rape. This sort of luck just didn't happen to Curt the Unlucky!
"Undo my top," Christina said sleepily, Curt's hands were shaking like crazy as he grabbed the thin strap at Christina's back and unhooked it. Then he pushed the hair away from her neck and untied the knotted string. He grabbed the bottle of tanning lotion and squirted a thick stream on Christina's back, feeling her skin smooth and warm against his hands.
"Yes, that's very nice," Christina purred. "Rub it all in. Yes, very nice."
Curt worked the lotion into the tanned flesh, seeing the slender, pale line across Christina's back where the strap of her bikini normally hid her skin. He worked his hands down her body to the edge of her bikini bottom, but went no farther.
"Do my legs now," Christina said.
When Curt raised himself off her ass and curled his legs beneath him at her side, she spread her legs a little. A tingling of anticipation crept into her cunt. How close to her pussy did the boy dare to go?
Curt started at her calves and worked his way up. The higher he got on her legs, the wider Christina spread them. His breath was now coming hard and fast and his raging stiff prick was straining to pop out of his tight fitting swimming trunks. Curt's hands were on the insides of Christina's thighs, inching dangerously close to her cunt.
Christina was disappointed when she felt Curt's hands go to the very edge of her bikini, but no farther. So the boy didn't have the courage to baldly reach out and fondle her pussy. Oh, well, she figured, time to take the initiative myself.
"That's nice. You've got very gentle hands." Christina rolled over, and the top of her bikini stayed on the blanket, no longer attached to her body by those bothersome clasps and knotted strings. "Now put lotion on my tits. I'm tired of having this damn tanning line over my tits."
As Curt wondered if he had died and gone to a heaven more beautifully erotic than she had ever imagined possible, he began fondling Christina's tits clumsily. She sensed right away that if she did fuck the boy, he'd be a lousy fuck anyway, so why not try something a little different – a little kinky? She reached between his legs and squeezed his rock-hard cock through his trunks.
"You've got a hard prick," she said, staring into Curt's eyes calmly. "Stand up and take those damn things off!"
Curt got to his feet, closed his eyes in embarrassment, and brought down his trunks. His prick sprang out, big and hard.
Christina looked at his cock. Plenty of size, nicely rounded cockhead, balls young and full of cum.
"Okay," she said, "now I want you to sit on me, just like before, only higher up so I can suck your cock."
Curt did as commanded, his thighs pressing against Christina's tits. She had her hands under her head, fingers entwined, elbows up – almost as if she were relaxing in her favorite chair after a hard day at the office. Curt's prick quivered above her face, and she looked at it. Her red lipstick glistened sensually. Christina opened her mouth wide, the red ring of her lips stretching, and Curt leaned forward to put the head of his cock into her mouth.
"Ohhhhhh, my! My, oh, my, oh! Myohmyohmy!" Curt gasped, letting Christina's lips and tongue go to work on the knob of his cock.
He had never had his cock sucked before, and he could hardly believe that anything could feel quite that great. He pushed more cock into Christina's mouth, expecting her to be angry, or at least to squirm uncomfortably. She did nothing of the sort. In fact, she let out a soft mean of pleasure as his rigid cock, his prickhead spongy and excited, pushed deeper into her mouth.
"Mmmmmmmmm!" Christina moaned. She worked her lips on his veined cock shank, stretching them out, letting them tighten around his cockmeat again, then pulling them inward, toward her mouth. Her tongue slipped almost lazily along the underside of Curt's pulsating prick, gliding with ease to further entice his prick into greater hardness.
Curt pushed farther and felt his cockhead press against the back of Christina's mouth. Not knowing the full extent of her blow-job prowess, he stayed there, letting her suck on his cockmeat, but pushing his prick no farther. The last thing in the world he wanted was to have her get angry with him and suddenly walk away, leaving him with a raging hard prick and nothing to do with his hard-on but jerk off.
When Curt pulled his prick back and up, taking all but his throbbing cockhead from Christina's mouth, she tasted a small drop of cum that oozed from his cocktip. She moaned again, louder than before, and Curt shoved his prick into her mouth again. He began to understand what was expected of him: fuck the brunette's face just like it was a cunt, and everything would be fine! He began sliding his cock ever so gently between Christina's lips, feeling every wonderful flick of her tongue as it rubbed along his cock.
Christina turned her head to the side, and Curt's cock twisted her lips before popping out of her mouth. His first reaction was to apologize, but when Christina unlocked her fingers and squirted tanning lotion between her tits, he knew she wasn't angry.
"Okay, lover boy, I want you to fuck my tits now," Christina said smoothing the oil over her tits and pushing them together. They looked like two hug marshmallows to her. "I've listened to my girlfriends talk about their husbands and how the men want to fuck their tits – that is, if they've got big enough ones – and my friends always sound so disgusted. As if letting their husbands fuck their tits was something evil. They tell me the men find it very erotic."
Curt listened to her words, looking down at Christina's mouth and at her tits. The words seemed to come from very far away, and he was absolutely sure that he was dreaming this all up, and now he would awaken and be disappointed to find it was all a dream. He rubbed Christina's belly with his cockhead, seeing a drop of cum at the tip smooth over her skin. Then he pushed his cock farther up. His prickhead was engulfed by her tits, and Curt knew be couldn't control himself much longer. Whether the brunette wanted it or not, be was about to become a fucking machine.
"Fuck my tits!" Christina said in a hoarse voice, seeing his red cockhead peek through her cleavage, pointing at her chin. "Fuck my tits hard!"
Curt braced himself by putting his hands on the ground above her head. Then he started ramrodding his pulsating cock into her milky, firm, tantalizing tits. His balls slid over her body beneath her tits as he fucked with wild intensity. Curt looked down at the gorgeous woman as she pushed her tits tighter around his driving cockmeat. He noticed that her lips weren't as red as they had been earlier, the lipstick now having been rubbed off on his cock. His cock. She had sucked his cock, and now she was begging him to fuck her massive tits. This sort of thing just didn't happen to Curt the Unlucky!
The shiver started somewhere in the vicinity of his toes and worked its way slowly up his legs, jumping an inch or two each time he thrust his throbbing prick between Christina's tits. By the time that shiver, reached his nuts, Curt couldn't think, breathe or even moan. All he was capable of doing at that time was pounding his cock between Christina's tits, and that's exactly, what he did.
When the shiver reached his nuts, they exploded with a force greater than Christina had previously imagined possible. She raised her head and parted her lips, waiting for the first spurts of cum to spew from his cockhead. She expected a strong blast, but not as strong as the one she got. His jism missed her open mouth and splattered against her cheek, hitting her a inch or so below the eye with enough momentum to smack against her cheek, sending droplets of rich cum flying in every direction. His main load of cum continued blasting forward and matted in her luxurious hair.
"Oh!" Christina gasped as his cum hit her. She opened her lips wider, waiting expectantly for the second blast of jism.
When his cockhead reappeared between Christina's tits, a second eruption of sticky fuck-cream arched through the air. The stringy liquid flipped up and struck Christina on the bridge of her nose, running over her open lips and trailing down to her tits.
Curt continued to thrust his spewing cock between her marshmallowy tits as his cum jetted from his red prickhead. When his nuts were finally spent, cum was sticking to Christina's neck and tits, including one long line from her nose to her neck and another running from her cheek into her hair.
Curt got to his feet and looked down at Christina, who seemed to take the greatest delight in scooping the cum off her face with a finger and then licking her finger clean. He couldn't imagine any woman loving the taste of jism that much.
"Thank you, dear boy," Christina said, then winked mischievously. "That was wonderful. I've wondered what that would be like – to get titty fucked – and now I know!"
She sensed that he was about to say something – ask for her phone number or something else equally silly.
"No, don't say anything. I'm married. See." She showed Curt her diamond ring. "Don't say anything. Just remember how great it was, and I'll do the same."
Curt left, walking back down the narrow pathway. When he was gone, it suddenly occurred to Christina that she had just been titty fucked, and the boy who did it had hardly said a word to her. Neither had volunteered giving a name. It seemed strange, particularly with the warm sun on her skin and the puddles of thick cum sticking to her chin and neck. Christina put her sunglasses back on, promising herself to lick the cum off her body shortly, and wound up falling fast asleep.