It was two days later at the Quinby poolside and Celeste lay sunning on a patio lounger. The shadow of a new arrival fell across her face, waking her.
"Hello, Bryan."
"Oh… hi, Celeste. Didn't know you were out here," he lied. "Mom's off for the grocery. Thought I'd take a swim."
He dropped to the deck chair beside her and she eyed him smilingly.
"Haven't seen you for a few days, Bryan. You're always off to school when I get up, or still at football practice when I have to leave for the music circus."
"Yeah. Has been a couple of days, hasn't it?" He knew exactly how long. Two days, thirteen hours since he made that madcap visit to her room, saw what he saw and did what he did. At any second since, he had expected either her or his dad or mom to say something, but no one had. He had gotten away with it completely.
Now, looking across at the barely covered figure, he caught his breath, wishing he could dare something again, knowing it was out of the question. What he'd tried was first and last and end of the line.
"Wanta take a dip?" He jumped from the prone and stood staring down at the body he felt he knew so well, yet didn't know at all well enough.
"I'd love to, but sun's all I can have, I'm afraid. Can't get my hair wet…"
"Oh, sure. That's right. You're onstage tonight. Hey, that's really fantastic, the way you sing to your own playing. Don't most… you know… concert singers usually have an accompanist?"
"Most. That's where I'm different. I do light concert and like to keep it informal. Your mother tells me you started piano yourself."
He shrugged, feeling pinpricks in his groin and knowing the conversation had better end.
"Yeah… I'm not much good yet. Sure do want to learn to play boogie or some of that great jazz."
"Maybe you could show me how you're coming," suggested Celeste, wriggling over onto her tummy and cupping her cheek against her arm. "I'd love to hear. Maybe I could even give you some ideas. I love jazz piano most of all."
"No kidding? When can we do it?"
She squirmed sensuously, obviously happy to be lazing in the chaise. "Ummmhh, you swim a few minutes. I'll sun a few minutes and then let's do it while we're thinking about it."
"Great!"
Stirred to furious erection against snug white rivieras, Bryan lurched to the tile edge and dove into the pool. No way he could let her see what lack of control he had. He trod water and pretended to clean the pool's side filter while he's red over the edge at the beautiful female. Sleek curvature of tail and back, sexy spill of dark hair draped over the side of her deck chair. He frigged quickly underwater, then tucked his softened cock under cover. For a few moments he swam vigorously to and fro lengths of the pool, then climbed the metal ladder to go sun beside her.
"Let me know when you're dry," she murmured from under her arm. "I'm ready to go in any time."
She sat at his side on the piano bench, still in her bikini. Already Bryan wished he'd changed to better cover. For frenetic minutes he entertained with what he knew, lost in preoccupation with the keys and driven to perform well for the ears of the fabulously talented Celeste.
"Very good!" she enthused as he finished an enthusiastic, if imperfect, "Slaughter House Blues." Her eyes danced with appreciation and he saw the sincerity of her praise.
Unexpectedly he caught the drama of her bust contour. Engrossed with his playing, there was no problem, but when his glance wandered below her throat, he was in trouble. The swelling stormed instantly and painfully against the front of his trunks and Celeste saw. She glanced, then stared. His penis, quadrupled and steel hard, ramrodded vertically against the white elastic. The fat crown trapped and contorted under the edge of the suit, threatened to burst free of the restraining cloth at any second.
Celeste could even see the hint of the trunks bulging away from his gut and a start of crimson flesh beginning to ooze through. Bryan was in obvious agony.
"Play some boogie with me," she said softly, fingering the base keys and shifting closer to him oh the seat. So close their thighs touched.
"Shucks, I only know two finger melody. Nothing interesting." He squirmed, but didn't dare move for fear of triggering the escape of his cock.
"Let's make it interesting." Celeste's fingers traveled the base notes and the boogie rhythm was set. "Come on, Bryan. You can do it."
Somehow he managed to pick up the beat and finger through a few bars of Blue Boogie, then inadvertently his eyes drifted as he played. Devastating curvaceousness in polka dot bikini.
Nudged against him on the piano bench. And taut against two perfectly placed polka dots of the halter, urgent nipples were thrusting. The teeny halter was virtually no cover to her sunburst beautiful breasts.
"Play, Bryan!" she urged when he stumbled on a note and hesitated. "You're good… good!"
He caught a glimpse of her shifting from right to left hand on the base and her right arm dropped from sight. Only for a moment. As he played familiar bars, he saw the lovely femininity of her hand, stroking lightly, high on her thigh as she accompanied him with her left.
The simple innocence of the act was in his eyes dramatically sexual. It was the way she had stroked herself the night of his surreptitious visit to her room. Then it had been several inches up and in… inside that magnet of her sex.
Suddenly it grabbed and forced a new ballooning of his already feverishly swollen prick.
The bright red glans tip squeezed into view above the top ledge of his trunks, dark and grotesquely distorted as it slithered into full view, followed by an inch… two… then three inches of visible bone-white shaft. Run, Bryan, hide! Panic stormed, but something overrode panic and held him.
Perspiration dotted his forehead as he struggled on with the boogie. She fingered the base notes effortlessly. Like the incredible dream he had masturbated to only the day before, her hand moved from her right thigh to his left thigh, paused for a minute, then fingertip walking, the hand moved up and over his spearing prick. When her fist closed on the erection, the boogie beat stopped. So did the pounding in his head that had thundered at him to run.
His eyes, bright and panicked, were on her face as her hand moved downward to force his trunks lower and expose most of his hard cock. She never lifted her glance, once her eyes focused on his penis, and her attention on his sex inflamed the prick still more.
All that was now visible with her head turned down was dark cascading hair, tumbling loosely across ivory smooth shoulders, curling, some over the front to partially conceal one breast, and some over the back, drifting almost to her tail.
She bent silently across his front. Incredulous that it was really happening, Bryan felt lips nibbling at his grossly swollen cock crown. It was her rightful due. She was the Goddess!
Moist, thirsty lips siphoned and munched. He could barely see the corner of her eye, then her face turned slightly and he was given full view of her profile.
A million years of living never would erase the memory of those eyes. Dark, bright and staring at his prick, now totally out of his swim trunks. He gaped at rich lips puckered to the tip of his penis. Lips of a princess licking the prick of her prince.
Bryan's fantasy flew wild, but reality was even better. He watched her tongue snake thirstily across the glistening thunderhead, then her mouth opened wide and a hint of lovely ivory was visible. What if she completely claimed what was her own? That was the mood of surrender that was his as she propelled the crimson corona past the gleam of her teeth, deep into the center of her mouth.
It was a fantastic sensation to the enchanted fifteen-year-old. No longer mere man. He felt total prick! His erect love organ was all he had to offer this darling princess of everything sexual. She could have his penis as her royal plaything. No longer was his cock an IT. It was a HIM! She could chew him with those beautiful teeth or whip herself with it like the girls next door had once done with the cat o' nine tails. Whatever Princess Celeste wanted of her slave prick was hers to do.
The passion in those puckered lips, now tight around his soaring penis, tore controls completely away. A fleeting memory of the last mouth that had sucked it came just as his ejaculation stormed up the tingling length of his erection. Pammy on the bus hadn't fooled him. His discharge into her lips had been too much and she'd grabbed in mid-climax for a hanky to take the full blast outside her mouth.
Even as his semen shot, Bryan knew Celeste was different about fellatio. She wasn't doing it for him alone. She wanted his offering.
Frantic little suck-thirsty sounds could be heard. Her lips clamped even tighter when his first drops flew. He knew Celeste loved the taste, that she was inflamed by the spray darting against the roof of her mouth and dripping to her throat. She milked and munched and siphoned, clearly in need of every drop he could offer.
Tiny rapture moans of her own coming synchronized with the height of his ejaculation and Bryan, eyes blurred with passion, saw her hips in urgent motion, her tail impatient on the bench. It was too much to ask of such a body to be still.
Celeste straightened suddenly and face profiled to him, she tilted her head upward and stroked the delicate loveliness of her throat as she swallowed. Fantastic thrill to know his semen was slipping down into her body! Different than if he had put it there in coitus. She had milked it from him of her own wanting.
She had a radiance even more breathtaking to Bryan than seen before in her lovely face. Dark hair lay softly now in repose across her shoulders; her breasts seemed momentarily quiet; even the centers against the polka dot cloth were flattened.
"Undo the bow of my halter." Softly spoken command, not wanting a response.
His hand moved robot-like under beautiful hair to find the bow.
Without a sound, the twin diamonds of the polka dot cover drifted from her front. She was on bare display to his hungry eyes. Seeming not to notice his lust, she stood gracefully from the piano bench and her fingers found the thin nylon string bows at her hips. With a casual disregard for what she had done, Celeste extended her hand to the dumbfounded Bryan.
"Come." It was an order from Eros, not an earthly invitation. Bryan stood from the piano bench.
"Show me all of your body."
He bent to peel the rivieras and his cock was long and jutting, standing stiffly from the front of his frame.
When they stepped from the living room into the paneled den, walking hand in hand across the soft, yielding green carpet, Bryan felt he had stepped into the world of the Gods. She had chosen him from all mortals to be her lover.
As she pushed him gently to the edge of the cot, her eyes were intent on his. "Is this our secret, truly our secret, no matter what happens?"
"Honest!" he gasped. "I'd never tell a soul. No matter what!"
"My body needs yours today."
Like some dancer performing for her king, Celeste spun away from a spellbound Bryan, sank to her knees, writhing and twisting and contorting, her intoxicating shapeliness in a fantastic drama in erotic choreography. Explosive breasts leaped high in response to the arching of her body and stood in jutting brazenness from her front. Taut nipples, almost translucent, rose crimson and hard, like tiny penises, from the centers.
Some deep primitive emotion seemed to grip her far inside as she undulated slowly, knees pressed together, calves flattened under her thighs, as she had been under the sheet the night before. This time on nude display and seeing Bryan's fixation at her crotch, Celeste squeezed her thighs tightly to force the pubes into even more dramatic prominence.
She seemed oblivious to her spectator as she performed before him. Her long dark lashes were lowered but he could see the hint of dark pupils just beneath and knew she was watching him, staring at one point on his body, always staring. Never wavering. As she focused on his erection she knelt like some ancient dancer before some royal court. Before some royal court? She was the royal court! And he the slave. By some fabulous turnaround, the princess was performing for the slave.
He gawked openly at the sleek molding of her lower body from waist down. Her midriff tapered to an incredible narrow waist. Satin smooth flesh flared to the wide rounding of her hips, then flattened down over her tummy. The triangle of dark hair seemed to point to the magic where her legs pressed tightly together. But there was no seeing the magic place.
Frustration tore at Bryan. In the bedroom two nights before he had burned to see what the night shadowed between her thighs. Now she seemed to sense his heat for full disclosure of her most secret place and was shy to show it. God, if she knew that as she slept two nights before he had fucked into her darling cunt!
Thwarted by Celeste's refusal to grant even a glimpse of her sex center, he concentrated on the erotic messages the woman's beautiful arms and exquisite hands were sending. Long, perfectly kept fingernails, delicately graceful fingers wove a pointed message of want.
As he watched, her arms stretched longingly toward him, then reached toward heaven. He wished she would lose control and leap at him to rake and claw with those ten restless stilettos give him an excuse to defend himself. To counterattack and drive her to the deep pile carpet on which she knelt. A mad feeling! He knew he had to make some move. The princess was daring him.
"Do!" cried the ravishing figure before him.
"What should I do?" he croaked helplessly.
"Anything you have to." Low and sultry, it was the voice of royalty.
Her hands dropped to her breasts, pressing the boobs to even more startling prominence, then tweaking suggestively at dark, turgid cherries. Her lower body, fixed in one position, moved in slow, snakelike rhythm that seemed an echo of the movement of her fingers. A barely audible moan slipped from her lips as she massaged the globes more excitedly – then stopped abruptly.
Slowly the long fingers crept down across her midriff, slipping over the silken tautness of her tummy to find the rise of her mons. Oh God, that hillock was actually pulsing to her stroke! She slid her hands beneath her hips and urged upward presenting the love mound even more dramatically, but still the ultimate secret of his princess was not visible, except for the hint of the start of a cleft as the pubes curved under.
It was then that Celeste did the unexpected. Legs still tightly pressed, she forced two fingers through the crease of her thighs and as Bryan gawked hungrily, trying to see what she wouldn't reveal, she drove her fingertips through the snug labia. Back and forth the fingers plunged, pushing violently into an invisible mystery. She was for one last moment completely aware of her spectator.
"Bryan, do you know what I'm doing?"
"Gosh… you're… you're…"
"Tell me, am I doing a wrong thing?"
"Aw, wow…! No…! You couldn't!"
"Why?" Her eyes were fierce and glittering as they fixed on his.
"Wow! You're… aw, you're special."
"How?" Her fingers were a strumming frenzy beyond the curve of her vee.
"You're… oh, hey! Hey, what's happening to…" His words trailed to stunned fascination as a deep orgasm shudder swept her. A woman possessed, she was in the grip of overwhelming climax. He watched her lovely face turn in happy agony, twist from side to side and he stared at the countenance of an angel, jet-black hair framing the incomparable beauty of her expression, dark eyebrows arched, lush ruby lips parted, as though waiting for something to fill them – or kiss them.
Impulsively he dropped to the rug and pressed his mouth against hers. As he did, she grabbed below his waist and squeezed his tumult-driven cock fiercely. Her mouth was hot and moist against his lips and her tongue stabbed against his teeth… then beyond.
Celeste was beside herself. Fingers buried from his sight between her legs, strumming herself feverishly while her other hand pumped him, she kissed and tongued him, passion running wild. It was almost exactly like the other night as she slept. But this time she was wide, wide awake and wanting. And at the very height of it, her hand snatched from his prick and her body quieted its frantic writhing. Stopped completely still.
Calm eyes looked into his. Bryan's wildly excited expression said it all. Before his eyes Celeste Dantrelle – and this time she was awake – had masturbated herself. It was a stunning awareness. All his life Bryan had thought of adults as tightly controlled individuals, contemptuous of youthful passion, making fun of puppy love and most of all, having only disgust for any sort of excitement of self. In one smashing moment here was one who, for all her thirty, maybe more, years, liked to excite herself. And this wasn't just anyone. This was her royal highness herself.
"Do you think of girls when you do that to yourself, Bryan?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah… golly…! Yeah!" There was a bond of understanding he'd never felt toward any grownup, between them.
"Have you ever gotten off thinking of me?"
"Wow! Like every day since you came to visit."
"Really?" Her eyes danced with delighted surprise and he noticed the softened nipples tightening again. "Show me."
"HUH?" His heart stuttered with excitement.
"I want you to show me what you do when you think of me." She caught her arms across her waist and shivered happily. "Don't you ever dream what you'd like to do when I'm like this?"
In spite of what he'd watched the gorgeous nude just do to herself, Bryan flushed at the bid for his exhibitionism. "Gosh… I…"
"I command you to do it!" Fire sparkled as she gave the order and she wriggled impatiently against the deep pile, her luscious breasts leaping as her saucy tail cheeks ground against the carpet. "You do the wildest things you ever dreamed of… I want to see a man do it!"
A man she'd called him! It was the magic goal of every fifteen-year-old and his Goddess had just knighted him with the title.
"Anything, sweet Bryan." She could as well have called him Sir Bryan. "I dare you! Make me a happy girl."
He glared down at the cameo perfection of her flesh, the caressible succulence of her figure. Behave against… however he wanted… this tantalizing female had invited him to work his will.
"Hah… yah!" The cry burst from his mouth. "I beat you with my big cock prick, y'hear? I punish you for what you did in front of me, see?" His own words echoed wildly inside his head as he threw his leg across the wide hips of a suddenly quiet female form.
He dragged her arms high to either side of her head and the action forced him across her tiny waist so that his cock and balls were flush against the sharp upslant of her midriff. He whacked furiously at her gorgeous breasts, slapping from one to the other with his horny penis, feeling the devilish wonder of satiny skin yield under the love assault of his phallic flesh.
He remembered the crazy play with the twins holding Denise Pritchard's boobs while he fucked into them and for a second thought to repeat that wildness. Seeming to read his mind, Celeste caught her deliciously abused boobies and forced the full globes into a snug tunnel around his phallus. In humping reflex he was caught with the urge to rip his cock from the sweet trap and go a different route. Then the savage response of her nipples held him. Their pink tumescence bulged, darkened and grew even more outstanding as he stared. Need-to-be-loved fired the cherries and deepened them to bright crimson as tender nipple flesh distended and stretched. He gawked at the turgid cones and at her index fingers toying impudently over the outspoken tips.
An instant later, pumping furiously, a long cry of rapture leaped from his lips as bolts of semen charged into her breast cunt and spat through the top of the cleavage.
"More! More!" gasped Celeste, her body an animated fury under his tail. "You didn't punish me enough. I was naughtiest down below."
"Yeah! Yeah!" Wriggling eagerly down her hips and positioning atop her thighs, he flailed mercilessly at the saucy prominence of her mons, his undiminished erection electrified with erotic bolts of lightning at the punishment its owner was giving it.
"Beat'cha! Beat'cha!" he squealed, banging the cock from side to side at the top of her thighs, then sliding farther down almost to her knees. All the while Celeste held her legs pressed tightly together and she had yet to open the magic. With a cry of desperation mixed with determination, he drove a knee between her legs, forcing her thighs apart.
For one stunned instant he gaped at Celeste's exposed cleft. Thin, dark, slightly wrinkled line in the center of baby pink, very soft sex flesh. It was like Denise's or Pammy's or Sandy's but it was more. It was the love center of the Goddess who had come to his house. The dark soft line carved in the heart of that rosy pink play center was like no other in this world.
"Bad… naughty!" he choked, slapping her thigh as he kneed closer to the target. "Punish you! Gotta!"
No attempt by Celeste to conceal her vulva now. The pussy center seemed to invite the weapon he had held in his fist and she watched and waited for what he might do.
In a final frustration of indecision that he would dare go all the way, he flailed across the tender folds of her vaginal lips, then slammed his cock tip almost hysterically against the palpitating labia, shoving forward as he did. Suddenly, unexpectedly, they were one body.
"Oh… oh, Bryan! Yesss!" She ground upward in rapturous reflex. "You're inside me! Oh, I'm going… go… eeehhh!" The warm lubricant of her come frenzy enveloped his cock shaft and he was aware of wonderfully clutching muscles.
Her long legs reflexed to the fever of her coming and to the deep thrust of his cock and snaked up and around his waist. The orgasm-wracked quim tunnel clasped and squeezed his wild penis, trying to forbid his going deeper. With a shout of pure joy, he thrust feverishly to force the yielding and with the thrust he was in climax. Their bodies, vibrating in helpless come craze, locked and cemented as they let the passion take them.
Jennifer Quinby couldn't shake the thoughts plaguing her as she moved along the aisles at the A amp;P. She made her selections of the week's groceries, not really interested in her usual comparison shopping. Little needling uncertainties pin-pricked her thoughts as she reviewed the two weeks Celeste had been with them.
Her conservatory roommate was an absolute doll for a house guest. And the fifteen years since they'd shared room and board were like fifteen minutes, never fifteen years. They were as close now as then. In fact, much closer.
Jennifer shivered at the intimacy between herself and Frank since that one night of menage-a-trois when Celeste had been part of their marriage bed. The shiver was more from the persistent feeling that bugged Jennifer that Celeste should herself be having regular all-the time love from a man. She was too much woman. Both of them were. It worried Jenny to remember how she'd let herself go again after so many years in that intimate girl play when Celeste was in their bed.
Frank had loved it. Brought it up night after night since. The lesby in his wife seemed almost as exciting to him as the hetero. In fact, the very mention of how he liked seeing her love Celeste's breasts and other places always drove Frank to wild hard and the need for quick copulation.
When she'd tested the waters of his lust with a tentative suggestion that it might be nice to get Celeste back for round two, he'd enthused over her suggestion, then dropped it like a hot potato. It wasn't what he felt would be good for any of them, he had grunted, closing the subject.
Jennifer moved to the checkout counter, glancing at her wrist watch with surprise that she'd taken so long in shopping. The frustration of wanting Celeste to have so much more in sex and knowing that wasn't likely to happen, had preoccupied her. The time had flown.
She drove slowly home, not really caring that she'd taken so long. Celeste had said something about talking with Bryan if he showed up while she was sunbathing and Jennifer liked that idea. Bryan had been in pure awe of their guest and with only a week remaining of her Connecticut stay, he could miss the chance of a lifetime to get to know Celeste.
Wondering if the two were out back at pool-side, Jenny left the Marquis outside the garage and circled the house. Just as she was moving across the lawn, a little cry inside caught her ear. Celeste's!
A suddenly alarmed Jennifer, remembering Bryan's strange behavior at the Pritchard barn door a few weeks earlier, was in panic. Fighting the urge to call as she hurried through the kitchen, she moved quickly toward the sounds in the den. Apprehension… fear… her heart racing with near terror… she heard the cry beyond the door.
"Bryan! Beautiful Bryan… you're… you're… oh, I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Head spinning, Jennifer reeled against the wall of the dining room, almost colliding with the mobile cart on which Frank kept his liquor. Her brain refused to accept the passion she heard in Celeste's cry and even as she rejected it, the bullish roar of her son stung her ears.
"Yeah… yeah, take it! Gonna fuck you. Fuck you!"
"Come, Bryan… come!"
"Gonna never come!"
"You must! Give it! Give it to me! Harder!"
"Gonna stay hard inside you forever!"
Fighting for air that refused to pass to her lungs, Jennifer pressed the den door slowly open.