Scott Birks awoke with a throbbing hard-on. He scratched his bare chest thoughtfully, his fingers working through the thick crop of dark hair which grew in a mat from just below his shoulders. A moment later and he had run his hand flatly downwards over the hard stomach muscles to where his cock thrust stiffly and curved to almost touch his navel.
He clasped the hard prick tightly, the ache in his balls reminding him of last night and the farewell party. Never had he found Joan Allingham so good at fucking, and he put it down to the fact that it would be the last time the two couples would be able to get together again for some time. Tonight he would be in California where he was to open new offices for Condor Air Freight. It would mean weeks of hard work and trying to find a home for Robin and the kids. Hopefully, it would all be worthwhile, but for the first time he realized how Robin and he would miss Bill and Joan Allingham.
He clutched his cock and stretched at the same time. At thirty-eight he was in pretty good shape, and he turned his head to where Robin was quietly sleeping beside him, her long ash-blonde hair in complete disarray across the pillow and over her beautifully rounded shoulders. She was lying on her stomach, one knee folded upwards so that the shapely leg was in a loop, the skimpy, flimsy little nightie up around her waist so that her young, curved buttcheeks were completely exposed.
Robin was ten years younger, and his second wife. Martha Birks had died when Steve had been born, and for six years he had relied on his parents to raise Donna, who was now eighteen, and the boy. Then through Bill and Joan Allingham he had met Robin, found she was a terrific screw and four years ago married her. It was an arrangement which had worked beautifully, and any doubts he may have had about keeping up with a young, sexy stewardess had long ago been dispelled. Not only was she an excellent wife, but she had proved to be a fantastic mother for Steve and Donna, who both idolized her.
He half turned towards the attractively slender body and feasted his eyes on the curved buttcheeks and the outspread thighs. They were creamy white, and he moved one hand to place it furtively on a rounded cheek, the velvety smoothness filling his loins with a dull, churning ache.
Robin Birks sighed and rubbed her cheek against the pillow. She ran her tongue across sensuously large lips, coming to briefly before dropping once more into a drifting, hazy sleep.
He left his hand over the softly yielding bun, his fingers digging gently into the warm, soft flesh. His thumb pressed teasingly near her brown puckered bung, and he could just make out the thin covering of silky pussy hair around the rim of her cunt. The sight brought another surging ache to his balls, and he moved his hand slowly into the small of her back, upwards over her spine and then under the hem of the nightie before reaching around and beyond to her tit.
Her tits were like large oranges, not large like Joan Allingham's tits, but perfectly rounded, with no sag so that they always stood out as if taunting all the time. His open hand closed in to completely encase the beautiful tit, the nipple scratching his palm as his fingertips closed in around the exquisite base to probe and knead in a series of methodical squeezes.
"Mnnnn…" Robin Birks was vaguely aware of a dull, soothing warmth as it raced through her tits. The excruciating feel of a man's powerful hand, molding itself over her right boob brought a yearning to her cunt and she cautiously allowed herself to come awake as the hand became more active.
"Mnnnn… what…" she murmured sleepily. Bill Allingham and she had fucked last night. Then she and Scott had got home and fucked again in bed. Now, as she tried to clear her sleepy head, she wondered if Bill and Joan Allingham had come home with them, too. They had after one party at the Allinghams', and the party had continued the next day. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at the window through which the sun was streaming onto the table by the bed.
Scott Birks moved his right leg over her left one and slowly eased his knee up into her warm, moist crotch. He pressed against her cunt, listened to her sigh and worked his knee up and down, the exquisite softness of her crotch filling him with lust. "Did you know you have the most beautiful ass in the world?" he asked, moving his cock so that it lay along her thigh.
"Mnnn…" she murmured. He was cupping the tit now, one finger trailing back and forth over the bulging, fruit-like nipple. She shivered at the response in her aunt, moving her folded knee upwards to give him more room. "Better than Joan's?" she asked softly.
"Much better." He brought his mouth down and kissed her on the neck so that she immediately cringed, giggled and tried to turn her head and force his mouth away. "That tickles!" she cried.
His cock was a throbbing shaft, and he moved his knee from out of her crotch, moving it against her outspread thigh so that he could guide his cock to the opening of her cunt. "Does that tickle?" he asked, the aching in his balls almost unbearable.
"Don't you ever get enough?" she asked, still giggling and waiting for the massive cock to begin its deep plunge up her quivering cunt.
He slowly thrust it in, the pulsing head widening out the hot tunnel of her cunt as she made little appreciative groans from deep in her throat. "Do you ever get enough cock?" he asked, squeezing the fabulous tit as his cock finally extended itself to the top of her cunt.
"No," she laughed, arching herself as his hips and thighs finally slammed against hers. "Oooooh…"
He let go of her tit and moved his hands to her waist, the smooth, velvety feeling of her young body filling his balls with sperm as he held his cock rigidly in. Then he moved his other leg over, mounted her securely as she willingly folded her other leg outwards. A moment later and his hands had lifted her bodily into position, his thick, bloated cock thrusting and recoiling as she cried with delight at each deep thrust.
She flung her head the other way on the pillow, his powerful thrusts making it difficult for her to breathe. They rarely fucked this way, with him behind, and she found it strangely exciting. She cupped her tits, squeezing them and stroking the nipples at the same time. Then she grabbed the pillow and pulled it under her, down to her waist so that she was curved over with her shapely young ass bare and exposed so that a moment later she was crying out and whimpering as his big, hungry cock swept in and out of her grasping, boiling hole.
"Jesus but that's good." His hands left her waist and he was leaning forward and reaching for her tits. She moved her hands and let his take over. When they did, he pulled and milked at them as he steadily fucked her.
"Sensational!" She was gasping for breath and straightening her legs at the same time. "God, but it's heavenly."
The boiling jism was bubbling in his balls. He was sinking his excited cock to the hilt each time, her pouting cuntlips clasping at the base of his shaft with each deep plunge.
"We… we… we should do this… more often."
"I'll say." He thrust his dick in and held still momentarily.
"God, yes." His cock filled her entire twat. It was as if it were reaching for her tits, and she gave a groan of despair as the thick, heavy prick throbbed and pulsed at the apex of her cunt.
He knew he was coming and he tried to hold on. He released her beautiful firm tits, hoping that would assuage the ache in his balls. He grabbed at her hips, withdrew his cock once more only to find the familiar surging of his cum had started. Then he held her beautifully curved buttcheeks in place and slammed against them in a frenzy of delight. "Yes… I'm… I'm coming!"
"What a… fuck… fuck!"
The force of the ejaculation surprised them both. The magnificent head of his cock belched forth in a spasm of volcano-like explosion, the hot, boiling sperm striking her cervix and making her shiver and tremble in response. She gave a series of half-choking cries, her fingers grappling wildly at the sheet and mattress as she tried to spread her legs wider. Then she lay there, her mind fighting oblivion as his thick cock plunged hungrily in and out of her gulping, clutching cunt.
He rolled off the warm, silky softness of her body. "Jesus, what a fuck," he gasped, his powerful chest heaving and falling as he fought for breath.
Robin Birks lay quietly gasping, her face turned so that she could watch him, her eyes dropping to the wet, shimmering shaft of his cock. She reached out and clasped it, the warmth of the sticky tool bringing a surging warmth to settle in her aching cunt. She rubbed it several times, her eyes focused on the red, gleaming head as it bared itself each time she sank her little fist to the bottom. "I'm going to miss it," she murmured, as if talking to herself.
"It won't be that long." He moved his hand to lift and play with one perfect tit. "Think about me out there with nobody. At least you have Bill if you get too horny."
She squeezed the huge cock affectionately. "I'm still going to miss him," she said softly. "Three weeks is a lifetime without him."
Later, as they ate breakfast with Donna and Steve, Robin said, "Do you think you'll be able to get back in three weeks?"
"I'll come back anyway."
"When do we go?" asked Donna, chewing on a piece of toast. "I can't wait to get to California."
Scott looked at his daughter who at eighteen was nothing short of beautiful. She was a little too seductive-looking for her own good, and he wondered briefly just how far she had gone with some of the horny young men he had seen her with. "I thought you'd have hated leaving all your boyfriends," he said, his eyes momentarily taking in the high firm tits which had developed suddenly and which she constantly displayed by straightening her shoulders. It was a habit he thought only women much older practiced when they knew men were studying them.
She made a gesture of indifference. "The boys are so slow around here," she said, sarcasm in her voice. "In California, boys are on the move."
Scott shook his head and laughed. He wasn't sure what boys did when they were on the move, but he hoped she could take care of herself.
"I'm sure Donna and Steve are going to love it," broke in Robin. "You're lucky, really. A lot of families find it difficult to adjust and the kids don't want to leave all their friends behind."
"And how about you?"
Robin shrugged her shoulders. "I'm like you. I think the opportunity for you is one we can't afford to turn down. Besides, with my ready-made family wanting to go, I'm ready anytime." She reached out on either side of her to touch the children's hands.
Scott looked at her affectionately. "I think once we're settled, we'll love it. Finding a place to live will be the toughest job. It's expensive out there, but we'll find something I'm sure."
"I hope it has a pool," allowed Donna thoughtfully.
"I hope so, too." Steve Birks pushed away the plate on which he had left a piece of bacon. "You'll teach me how to swim, won't you Robin?" He looked at his stepmother, a doting look in his eyes. She had impressed him from the first moment he had met her, his need for a mother surfacing and making it that much easier for his father to decide on marrying again.
"Robin and I can teach you," said Donna, not wanting to be left out. Then, with a serious expression on her face, she looked at her father and said, "Did you speak to that Miss Kelly about me going to the stewardesses' training school next year, Daddy?"
Scott finished the last of his coffee. "Yes, and we have to remind her next spring before she starts recruiting."
Donna, who had been getting to her feet, came over and planted a kiss on the side of his face. "Thanks, Daddy. Just think, you could have a fly-girl in the family after all."
Scott laughed and looked at Robin. "I have one now, remember?"
Donna smiled at Robin. "Robin's an ex-fly-girl." Then, in case the remark had sounded glib or offensive, she added, "Robin has a much more important job now, just taking care of us." She touched her stepmother's shoulder as she walked towards the living room. "I'm going to wash my hair, if we're all going to the airport to see Daddy off."
It was shortly after eight p.m. when Scott Birks arrived at Los Angeles airport. He was tired after the long flight and was pleased when he was settled in his hotel and had poured himself a drink. Tomorrow he would start work arranging to rent space for Condor's operations in Los Angeles, hiring staff and ordering equipment. It was a task he was looking forward to.
Two weeks later, with most of the work in hand, he turned to looking for a place for him and his family to live. At first, he stared at the multitude of advertisements in the papers. He soon found this so bewildering, he finally gave up, deciding to choose a real-estate agent at random from the yellow pages and phoning for an appointment.
It was hot, even at ten o'clock in the morning, when he walked into the sumptuous offices of Harper Realty, Inc.
"May I help you?" The pretty honey-blonde, who could be no more than nineteen, or twenty at the most, flashed him a dazzling smile.
"I'm Mr. Birks. I have an appointment with Mr. Foster." He managed to keep his eyes away from the bulging, youthful tits which were clearly visible above the low-cut blouse the girl was wearing, until she had turned to study an appointment chart to one side. Then he allowed himself a long, lingering gaze at the perfect jugs before his eyes dropped hungrily to the lushly tapering thighs which disappeared upwards under the highly hiked hem of the tiny white skirt.
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry, but Mr. Foster had an unexpected delay this morning." She turned to flash him a knowing smile this time as he failed to avert his eyes from her gorgeous thighs in time. "He has asked Mrs. Harper herself to see you." She got to her feet, brushing at her skirt so that she had to bend over and give him a better view of her magnificent tits. "I'll just see if she's ready. Would you like to take a seat?"
He moved towards the seat, but hesitated long enough to watch her wiggle her cute ass down the short hallway to a private office.
"Mrs. Harper will see you now, Mr. Birks."
"Thank you." He smiled as he brushed past the little blonde, this time brazenly examining her tits which she had thrust out as he approached, just as his daughter, Donna, had done the last morning at the breakfast table.
His first glimpse of the private office and the occupant took his breath away. The receptionist closed the door behind him, and he just found himself standing there, taking it all in.
The office, with its white shag carpeting and dark mahogany furniture was startling enough, but he hadn't been ready for Mrs. Harper herself. For some reason, he had expected an older, over painted, overdressed dowager type. Instead, he found himself facing a huge desk behind which sat a woman about his own age. She had chestnut-red hair which was a little more than shoulder-length and which framed one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. Then she got to her feet and held out a hand, and he was able to see her figure more clearly, the slim waist emphasizing the twin globes in all their perfect roundness as they bulged so enticingly through the thin material of a clinging, almost skin-tight yellow sweater.
"Mr. Birks! I'm so pleased to meet you."
This time he couldn't control his eyes. "I-I'm Scott Birks," he stammered, as a smile slowly spread over her pretty face, frightening him as he felt the first distant stirring in his cock.
"Do have a chair," she grinned, pointing to one at the side of the desk, and watching him almost stumble on his way. "I'm sorry Mr. Foster has been detained by another client."
Scott Birks slumped into the arm chair and gulped. "I must say, I'm not," he managed to quip, pulling himself together with a supreme effort.
She brushed at one side of her hair, pressing it away from her round, beautiful face. "I take that as a compliment, Mr. Birks." She sat down and crossed her arms at the edge of the desk. There was nothing like an expensive sweater to bring out the horniest in a man. "I gather you were expecting someone older." She had an amused expression on her face which made her green eyes twinkle.
"A hag, as a matter of fact." He looked around the office, taking it all in. "You must be a very successful realtor."
"My husband was. I just carried on after he was gone, but he'd already made the big deals – as we call them. Now I stick to residential real estate by and large. It has less headaches and is probably more rewarding."
"I see." He was dying to know if she was divorced or a widow. He tried to frame a suitable question, but gave up. "Well, I'm moving to Los Angeles and I'm primarily here for advice. I don't even know if I should rent or buy. That's why I'm here and I'm hoping you can help me."
"I'm sure I can. We have listings in all categories, but first I want to know something about you so that I shall be in a position to help you the most." She sat back, with her elbows on the arms of the chair and her hands together and tapping her chin.
"I'm married with two children. A girl who is eighteen and a boy twelve." He crossed his legs, the dull, familiar ache in his groin intensifying now that her big boobs were gloriously displayed between her sloping arms. "So it has to be a three-bedroom place, at least, and I would prefer four if possible."
"Any particular area?" She decided he was her age – thirty-five – possibly a little older, and one of the handsomest men she had ever seen. He reminded her of Murray, her late husband, but she didn't know why. He didn't look like Murray in the face, but the broad chest and athletic figure were identically like Murray's, and for a brief moment she tried to imagine him naked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "None at all. I set foot in L.A. two weeks ago and except for the route to the airport, I wouldn't know one end of the city from the other." He watched her get to her feet. She was wearing slacks – cords were what his daughter called them – and, like his daughter's, they appeared to be sprayed on, except for the flaring legs. He sucked in his breath quietly as the tightly encased ass swayed erotically as Mrs. Harper walked over to the window. "I'll… I'll have to leave all that to you."
"Yes," she murmured. "I'll have to think about it. It's never easy deciding for someone else, but that is part of our job." She turned rather quickly and caught him staring at her midsection. At the same time, he had been trying to pull at his crotch. She waited while he re-crossed his legs. Then she came and stood beside him, staring down, a half-smile allowing him to see the even white teeth just above the towering domes of her fabulous tits.
"Where are you going to be working?" she asked. For the first time in two years she had the urge to feel a cock. She was a little surprised and disappointed to see no telltale bulge at his crotch, but in a sitting position it was quite likely he was hiding it. Two years ago, at a real-estate convention, she had fallen for the first time since Murray's accidental death. She had lasted two years and then surrendered, after far too much to drink, not to the lecherous woman-haters who seemed to make up most of the convention, but to a young salesman who couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-one. She had never been able to recall whether or not the young man actually satisfied her, but the fuck had dulled her sexual responses sufficiently for her to last until now.
"I'm with Condor Air Freight, and we're going to start hauling into and out of Los Angeles. I'm opening up the terminal, getting space and staff. So I'd say I'd want to be reasonably near or have access to the airport." The tits, when she straightened up and folded her arms under them, almost made him groan. "I know there's nothing near the airport, of course, but you'd know where would be best to live."
"Yes, of course." The warmth around her cunt was indescribable, bringing back sensuous memories of her early sex life when she and Murray had fucked with all the abandonment of carefree youth. "Let me go and see what we have in the listings and then I can get some idea of what you want to spend and so forth."
He had to turn to watch her ass again. It was only slightly larger than Robin's, he decided, firmer no doubt and beautifully rounded. He watched her all the way to the door, smiling weakly when she turned before disappearing through the door, and giving him a knowing, friendly smile.
Afterwards, they spent over an hour studying listings, reading descriptions and looking at photographs. She had suggested they move to a long, modernistic sofa which covered almost half a wall. There, side by side, she was able to describe the properties listed.
He was only half listening. The nearness of her hip and thigh against his, the haunting perfume which was penetrating his nostrils and always the big, bulging tits before his eyes whenever he turned to speak, all served to make the two weeks of stored sperm simmer in his balls. He couldn't be sure the persistent rubbing of her thigh against his was by accident or on purpose. But then she was spreading the snapshots of the various properties along his thigh, her fingers briefly touching here and there, and he thought he would go insane. Finally, in desperation, he suggested he take her to lunch before they went to see anything.
"That's very nice of you, but I'm liberated enough to take you," she said, laughing and keeping her face dangerously close to his, her shoulder pressing against his arm so that he thought his cock would burst. "After all, you are my client, and I know the best places for a sandwich at lunchtime."
During lunch he learned she was a widow, and had been for four years. He also learned about her son, Barry, who was seventeen.
After lunch, and while she was showing him some homes for sale and rent, he accepted her invitation to dinner at her place that evening, an overwhelming urge to fuck creeping into his groin as she smiled and squared her shoulders. Never had he seen such a splendid pair of knockers, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on them.