Mafia Desire (Erotica)

Gerald stopped after a while, afraid the poor girl might actually faint away from pleasure. Moving up her body and placing himself between her legs, he patiently waited for her climax to subside. When it finally did–after Bridget expelled several little coughs and heavy breaths–he said quietly, “May I go in now, dear?”

At once a grimace of fear passed over her face, but she shook it off and said with as much courage as she could, “Yes. Please go in me.”

What a brave girl, Gerald marveled–and plunged in.

For a man in this situation, there’s always a dilemma: should he try to be slow and gentle (which might just prolong the girl’s agony), or should he be quick and forceful, to get the worst part of the business (the demolition of the hymen) over with as soon as possible? Gerald chose the latter, but was immediately filled with guilt when Bridget, although she had wrapped her legs around his hips in proper missionary position, emitted a sharp, gargling cry and instinctively clutched him around the shoulders. She was in obvious pain, and he was grieved to see a huge tear spring out of each of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. Her face was now in a mask of agony, even though he was careful not go in too far.

“Should I stop, dear?” he said.

“No, no! Please . . . go on. Just finish, okay?”

He had to admit that he didn’t want to finish–not quickly, anyway. The feel of this girl’s wet, warm pussy, soft as velvet and holding onto his cock as if it never wanted to let go, was a transcendent moment for him as much as it was for her, and as he lowered himself onto her body and felt those abundant breasts pressing against his chest, he sensed the inexpressible delight of coupling with a hefty young woman whose firm flesh was just designed to be caressed by a man. It didn’t matter that she’d never had a man before; or rather, Gerald felt a surge of pride and gratitude that this succulent creature had chosen him, out of all men in the world, to be the first to enjoy her body.

And enjoy it he did. He didn’t want to pound Bridget, but he couldn’t resist thrusting forcefully while he showered her face with kisses and squeezed her back and breasts and bottom and thighs and anywhere else he could reach. After a while it seemed that Bridget was getting used to the feel of a cock inside her, and she even gave him a broken smile–a smile that made her tear-stained face a symbol for the complex sensations of the sex act. Toward the end he fastened his lips to hers in an unending kiss as he kept on grinding his hips into her, forcing his cock as far into her as he could even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that.

And when his cock began sending the first of many streams of his emission deep into her, he had to break off the kiss as he gasped and moaned in dizzy ecstasy. Never in his life, it seemed, had he ever poured so much of his essence into a female as he did then, and she received it with a quiet sort of grace as a fitting tribute to her own beauty and desirability.

At last he grudgingly pulled out and rolled off of her, landing heavily on his back next to her. His cock was streaked with blood, just as it had been when he’d done this to Hilary, and he quickly snatched up some Kleenex to mop himself up and her as well.

Bridget’s whole front was doused in sweat–both his and hers–as she huffed and puffed from the exertion. It’s a myth that a woman does nothing in the missionary position, merely taking what the man gives her: she plays her part too, especially during her first time. Her exhaustion was real.

“How was it, dear?” Gerald said between breaths.

“Wonderful,” she affirmed.

“Hurt too much?”

“Not too much. Some.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t so bad.”

“The whole thing was just incredible!” She impulsively flipped herself on top of him and plastered his face with kisses. “I couldn’t have asked for a better initiation into heterosexual sex!”

They cuddled for a while. Gerald couldn’t resist slipping a hand between their bodies and cupping her sex, where he could feel the thick stream of his come leaking out of her. Sure enough, something happened to him–and Bridget had been expecting it.

“You’re hard again,” she said, a little regretfully.

“Yes, I am,” Gerald replied. “You have that effect on me–on any man.”

She let out a little sigh. “Gerald, dear, I’m really sore down there. I don’t think I can take your thing in me again–not there anyway. Is there anything else we can do?”

Gerald had been massaging Bridget’s bottom while she’d been speaking, but he had to bite his tongue and not say what he really wanted to say. What he did come out with was: “How about sixty-nine?”

“Sure!” Bridget said enthusiastically. As a lesbian she was very orally fixated; and she had enjoyed the sensation of having the male organ in her mouth. What a curious thing it was!–certainly the most unusual part of either the male or the female body.

She got into position. Although, with Hilary and other girls, she usually was on the bottom, she felt she should be on top of Gerald, both because he was bigger than her and because she felt that access to his cock would be easier that way. Sure enough, as she spread herself out over him, facing his member and lifting it up to a vertical position, she saw it towering in front of her face like a monolith. From this perspective it looked huge and a little scary; but even so, she popped the first several inches into her mouth and began licking, sucking, and nibbling with gusto.

While Gerald lapped up the juices–both his and hers–oozing out of her pussy, Bridget became so focused on her job that she hardly noticed the stimulation she herself was receiving. That’s why, when all of a sudden she felt an orgasm wafting through her from Gerald’s ministrations, she was taken by surprise. She had to stop what she was doing to appreciate her climax properly–and Gerald managed extend it for several minutes by the diligent use of his tongue and by squeezing her sensitive bottom with both hands.

But an even greater surprise came to her when she resumed her task and Gerald, without much warning, shot his seed into her mouth.

Why she failed to predict this volcano-like eruption from his cock, she couldn’t tell; but it startled and even shocked her. But mostly it was the strange taste of his seed that struck her–so gooey and salty! She ended up expelling most of it even as more and more fluid poured into her mouth and over her tongue. The stuff dribbled messily out of her mouth and down the shaft of Gerald’s cock, and she coughed and spit most of the rest of it out in a most unladylike manner. Then, as he caught a glimpse of her lips and chin covered with the remnants of his emission, she stumbled up from the bed, rushed out of the room, and into the bathroom, where she swallowed a fair amount of water to wash the taste out of her mouth and clean herself up generally. Then she hastened back to the bedroom and got back into bed.

“I’m really sorry,” she said, looking utterly mortified at her behavior. “I–I wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s okay, dear,” Gerald said, although the tone of his voice showed that he was a bit disappointed that she’d rejected his most precious substance.

“I’ll swallow it next time!” she cried, although she wondered to herself whether she could ever bring herself to do that. God, what things straight girls have to do to please their men!

They cuddled some more, then went to sleep. They’d earned their rest!

*

Meanwhile, a different sort of drama was playing out in the master bedroom.

Even though there was in fact a vacant bed in a second guest room, Hilary somehow assumed that she’d be in Mom’s bed for the night. Joyce was startled by that decision but said nothing. Maybe, she figured, it’ll give me the opportunity to get closer to my daughter.

As certain unmistakable noises could faintly be heard in the guest bedroom where Gerald and Bridget were ensconced, Hilary let out her customary chuckle. “Well, they didn’t waste any time,” she said. Joyce did not trouble to respond to that remark.

At first the two women lay down on their backs next to each other; but as Hilary noted the immense contours of the king-size bed they were on, she felt silly–the more so because she was so diminutive. With an impatient “Oh, this is absurd!” she flung herself in the direction of her mother, bumping up against her and pushing her to the edge of the bed.

“Oof!” Joyce said. “Hilary, what on earth are you doing? You almost knocked me off the bed!”

“Sorry, Mom,” Hilary said, helping the drag Joyce back toward the middle of the mattress. “Is that better?”

“I suppose so,” Joyce said, although she still felt a bit uncomfortable as her daughter wrapped her arms around her waist and clung tightly. Hilary’s face was now tucked into the crook of Joyce’s neck, and the younger woman absorbed the distinctive body-scent of her mother with relish.

“Mmm,” Hilary said. “You smell good, Mom.”

“Dear, I haven’t worn any perfume today,” Joyce said.

“It’s not perfume. It’s you.” And she took in a deep breath as her nose was buried in the place where her neck and shoulders came together.

For her part, Joyce tentatively placed her arms around her daughter’s back. She had to admit that Hilary was about as succulent a morsel of female flesh as she’d ever seen. No wonder Gerald had been so keen on deflowering her! She’d probably have a long line of lovers in the course of her life, and it would be interesting to see which lucky man would finally win her heart.

But then Joyce remembered that Hilary had bedded down with the young woman now being serviced by Gerald in the other room. The idea of her daughter’s lips and fingers encountering the private parts of another female sent a shudder through her.

“You cold, Mom?” Hilary said.

“No, dear. Just thinking about something.”Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Hilary had a sense of what was running through her mother’s mind. Maybe that’s why she said, “Your breasts feel nice against mine, don’t they?”

Joyce was taken aback at the comment, but she had to admit that she felt the same way.

“That’s something you can never get from a man, right, Mom?” Hilary went on impishly.

As Joyce remained silent, Hilary looked up at her. Even in the near-darkness of the room (a little moonlight was filtering in from a gap in the curtains over the one window in the room), she could tell that her mother was blushing. Gee, it didn’t take much to get Mom flustered!

So Hilary went on with a bit of teasing. “You know, it would feel even better if we took our nightgowns off.”

“Hilary, please,” Joyce whispered.

“Oh, come on, Mom, don’t be such a prude.”

“I’m not a prude!”

But Hilary was getting impatient. Taking hold of Joyce’s nightgown at the shoulders, she pulled down hard–and exposed her mother’s breasts to her gaze.

“Oh, boy!” she exclaimed. “What a pair of knockers!”

“For God’s sake, Hilary!” Joyce burst out, covering her bosom with her hands. “What do you think–?”

Hilary now saw that she could remove Mom’s entire nightgown by continuing to pull it down–and she did just that. In a matter of seconds, Joyce was naked, and Hilary wasted no time in doffing her own baby-doll nightgown off of her head.

In the midst of Joyce’s utter embarrassment at being exposed to her daughter’s gaze, she was also struck by something that had gradually been dawning on her. “Omigod, Hilary, you’re so beautiful!”