You lean way over the kitchen sink, peering out the window at your husband, busy entertaining guests in the back yard. Your neighbors are relaxing by the pool, totally unaware that their eighteen year old son is behind you on his knees eating your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to climax. "I want you right here," he had insisted, unzipping your skirt and dropping it to the kitchen floor. "This is way too dangerous," you had half heartedly replied, wishing he had just lifted your skirt rather than stripping you before forcing you to bend over the counter and spread your legs.
The light almost seems to dim as you feel that familiar sweet tingle in your pelvis....the tingle that eradicates your fear of being caught and paralyzes your extremeties, freezing you into submission until that faithful moment. As Greg's tongue darts in and out of your honey hole, you remember back to the beginning when this all began, just a few months ago, lounging in the pool. Greg had finished the yard work and stood at the foot of the pool, shirtless, in his faded cut off jeans. His sweaty, brown body and his lean, tight muscles were mesmerizing. You kept telling yourself that he was just a kid, 20 years your junior, easily young enough to be your son. But Greg certainly was not your son, and the feelings he inspired were beyond anything you expected for a man his age. Maybe it was some subliminal thing...a need to get back to your teenage years...some sort of 'mid-life' crisis he inspired. You couldn't tell. But just looking at him made you wet, and you were thankful to be floating in the pool, so he couldn't tell the difference.
You didn't really intend for anything to happen, but you couldn't help but ask. "Why don't you jump in and cool off?" Greg innocently suggested that he go next door for his swimsuit. "Don't you have underwear?" You responded. Greg smiled mischeviously, catching a glimpse of the lust in your eyes that you had so intended to hide. "Yea," he politely admitted. "Just swim in that, then." You suggested, pretending to be disinterested. "It's not like we're at a public pool or something." In retrospect, you couldn't believe that you had suggested it, but Greg spent little time wiggling out of his jeans and shoes. You admired his young, hot body as he walked to the edge and dove into the deep end. "Oh my God!" You mumbled to yourself. His undies were thin white cotton, nearly transparent already from the dripping sweat. Certainly they would leave little to the imagination once completely soaked.
Greg swam laps and then floated beneath you several times, barely missing your dangling feet. "I'll get you a towel," you announced, stepping out of the pool and picking up Greg's jeans and socks. "And I'll wash these for you if you like." Greg stood at the steps in waste high water, waiting for his towel. "Here you are," you teased, motioning for him to step out and take it from you. Greg casually ambulated toward you. Dripping wet, his underwear was completely sheer and clinging to his substantial manhood dangling between his muscular thighs. You tried not to gawk, but Greg seemed to purposefully take his time, giving you more than ample opportunity to evaluate his package. "Thanks," he said in an intentionally deep voice, taking the towel to his face and drying off his dark brown hair, providing you the chance to stare intensly at his crotch while he wasn't looking. He slid the towel over his back and chest, glancing down at his waist. "You want to wash these too?" You felt a tingle in your spine running down to your crotch. He was playing with you and you knew it. He was playing your game, and the ball was in your court. "Sure, if you like," you responded, looking streight at his cock like a school girl checking out her boyfriend for the first time.
Greg dropped his undies with a splat on the concrete, making no effort to cover himself, and kicked them off his feet. He ran the towel down over each of his legs and then proceeded to dry his massive tool, clearly quite aware and proud of his member. As he dried it, he would pull the towel open to allow for your glances. You were completely fixated on his dick and could not remove your eyes from it. Without even looking at you, he knew he had you hypnotized. What's worse, he was making himself hard for you, playing with his cock and balls right in front of you. It was making you crazy.
All conversation had ceased. It wasn't as if Greg were somehow all that innocent. He was quarterback for the football team. He probably had been with half a dozen girls already. He was young, but he knew how to handle himself. And what a handle he had! Easily two if not three times the size of your husband. Its length and its thickness were beyond anything you had ever seen, except maybe in some x-rated movies. "He could put some porn stars to shame," you thought to yourself.
"Can I call you Christina?" He asked politely, as his pole began to assume its full erection. His words seemed to awaken you from a trance. "Oh God," you tremored. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't be doing this."
"You were the one who asked me to swim," Greg reminded you as you turned toward the house. Dropping his towel, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back into his naked body, still moist and warm against you. He kissed you passionately, ramming his hot tongue deep into your mouth as his hand slid into your bikini bottoms and gripped your naked ass, squeezing it firmly. His fingers slipped up and down your crack as he pushed your bottoms down to your thighs, exposing your cheeks and your pussy. You could feel his thick erection pulsating against your naked mound and stomach. "No Greg," you weakly protested. "We can't do this here!" Ignoring your opposition, the young stud proceeded to unhook your top and completely remove it despite your limited resistance. You folded your arms over your naked breasts, but Greg forcefully pulled them away, studying your tits as he held your wrists down by your sides. You wondered if he was sizing you up against his other girlfriends. You knew you looked good, but you weren't 18 anymore. "What's the problem, Christina?" He asked sarcastically. "It's not like we're at some public pool or something."
"He really is full of himself," you thought. You couldn't deny that he had called your bluff with Aces, and now you were wondering if he really found you attractive or were you to become just another trophy on his counter. "Now he has a shot a fucking some executive's wife," you admitted to yourself. "He was hired to do my husband's lawn, and now he's going to do his wife." You trembled at the thought that he would go back and tell his friends at school. How would you even look at him after this? And he lives just down the street!
Greg leaned down and essentially ripped your bottoms down to your ankles, then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs and carried you over to a small round table beside the pool. Laying you on your back, he removed your bottoms and threw them into the pool. "What are you doing? What if my husband shows up?" You implored as Greg disappeared between your legs and began to slowly eat your pussy, licking your cunt gently and swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit. "Your husband doesn't show up in the middle of the day," Greg responded very matter of fact, interrupting his oral massage only for a second. "What if somebody else shows up? What if.... Oh shit, that feels good! How did you learn how to do that?" You whimpered, involuntarily flexing your back and gripping the sides of the table as Greg spread your legs to an almost vulgar extreme. He fucked you deep with his tongue, pressing his face tightly between your legs to get maximum penetration and stopping occasionally to lick the length of your slit, sliding still further down to your puckering anal opening where he rimmed your back door as he fingered your slippery snatch. The yard seemed to spin around you as Greg pumped a second finger inside of your slot, and then a third. His warm tongue was gaining entrance into your tiny forbidden opening. It felt like nothing you had ever experienced. Certainly your husband would never dream of shoving his tongue up your ass.
Suddenly the concern about somebody walking in or the neighbors watching from thier windows became a distant blur, giving way to your burning desire to climax. Greg eased a finger deep inside your asshole as he returned his attention to your swollen clit, sucking it deep inside his greedy little mouth and devouring your pussy's creamy secretions. You exploded all over his young face, jerking and thrashing on the table as he continued to eat you. Gasping, you begged him to stop...but he would not. Your muscles contracted uncontrolably as he vigourously fucked your ass with his finger, plunging it deep into your rectum. You could feel his teeth against your clit, nibbling and biting your vulnerable sex organ into a frothy frenzy. Bolts of orgasmic current ran through your body like lightening. Your arms and legs shook, then spastically flexed without warning as the next wave of pleasure ravaged your body.
When the smoke cleared, Greg was standing between your legs looking down at you, still lying on the table. He held his massive rod by the base, sliding its pulsating helmet up and down the length of your slot and smearing his viscous precum all over your labial lips until they glistened in the mid-day sun like cherry lip gloss. "Don't cum inside me, Greg," you managed to whisper, still dazed in a post-climatic oblivion. Gary seemed to ignore the request. Pressing the head of his cock firmly against your swollen clit, he began to grind it against your button in a circular motion as he leaned over to suck your erect nipples, one by one. He certainly knew how to tease you. Even if you couldn't cum again, Greg was definitely going to get you close.
"You want me to fuck you, don't you Christina?" Greg softly inquired as you squirmed and moaned beneath him. "You know that I do," you admitted, anxious for him to shove his thick prick deep into your vaginal vault. You could not have imagined refusing him, and you opened your legs a bit wider to demonstrate your submission. Greg eased his massive member into your slippery opening, pulling back as he met resistance and then pushing forward again, stretching your pussy slowly to accomodate his size until he was finally able to completely bury his erection inside of you. Teasing you, he continued to slowly pump your pussy. "Oh shit! That feels so good! Do me harder!" you insisted.
"You mean like this?" Greg responded, slamming his rod deep inside your cunt with a mighty thrust from his muscular pelvis. It felt like your womb was on fire, yet the pain was also pleasurable. A cock that size couldn't help but stimulate your G-spot, and Greg had hit it right on target. You let out an involuntary squeal as your lover pulled back for another lunge, allowing a long pregnant pause before spearing your honey hole for a second time. "Is that what you wanted?" Your tits jumped violently from the impact as you felt his heavy balls smack against your ass. Your juices dribbled down your open crack as he drilled you a third time, splattering your essence all over your inner thighs. "You're so tight, Christina!" Greg announced. "Either it's been a long time, or your husband must have a tiny little prick. Which is it?"
Speechless, you tried to ignore the question. Certainly Greg was substantially larger than your spouse, but admitting it would just amplify this teen's ego beyond the level of reason, you thought. "Do me faster, Greg," you whispered. "Why don't you beg me?" He answered, sliding his cock back in you slowly, then grinding his pelvis against your crotch as he toyed with your nipples between his fingers. "I'm begging you, Greg," you agreed shamelessly. "I'm begging you to fuck the ever loving shit out of me, OK? How did you learn how to tease like this? You're too young to know how to do this. You're killing me! Fuck me, you little bastard! Stop playing with me and fuck me hard!"
There it was. You admitted your lust, and even Greg was a little stunned...well, just for a second. Then, like a thunderbolt, you felt his rock hard erection penetrate your snatch, lifting you off the table and suspending you on his pole as if you had been harpooned. He grabbed your ass cheeks with his strong hands, pulling you into his pelvic thrust, insuring maximum depth of delivery. His biceps flexed and relaxed as he worked you up and down over his vascular shaft like a piston. You knew you were going to cum again. There was no doubt about it. You could feel that tingle, that burn, that urgency to explode.
"Do you want me to pull out?" Greg grunted, suggesting he was getting ready to shoot his load. Looking down, you noticed his balls were tightening, but you just couldn't ask him to stop, and he knew it. His dick felt too good. He was testing you, and you were failing again. He knew you didn't have the will to refuse him, no matter what he wanted. You didn't have the will to keep him from stripping you in your own back yard. You didn't have the will to keep him from eating your pussy and making you cum. You didn't have the will to keep him from fucking you on the patio table. And now, you didn't have the will to keep him from draining his balls deep in your pussy, no matter what the consequences.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," Greg muttered, noting your silence in response to his question. "I can feel your pussy gripping my cock, Christina. You like a big cock, don't you? It's going to make you cum, isn't it? I bet your husband can't make you cum with his little dick, can he Christina? Maybe I should show him how it's done! Maybe I should let him watch just like the neighbors are watching you now."
"Oh my God!" you gasped, looking up but unable to escape the grip of your young lover. "Is somebody watching?"
"What if they are?" Greg casually commented, continuing to mercilessly hammer your snatch as sweat poured down his neck and over his massive pecs. "It's a little late for you to run now, isn't it? They've already seen everything you've got. I want them to see you! I want them to watch you cum! I hope they have binoculars so they can see the cream running out of your cunt! Go ahead and cum for me, Christina! Cum for everybody!"
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. From your angle, you couldn't see anybody. The windows next door were clear. Still, Greg seemed so sinister and so convincing. Somehow, his demeaning comments about your husband's cock were exciting you. Greg was so young, yet so confident, even arrogant. You imagined him dominating your spouse, then taking you in front of him. You had become his sex slave; his personal slut. Greg had you where he wanted you. He had taken you to the point of no return. Your fear of being watched only served to delay the inevitable. You couldn't hold back, and he was pounding you deeper and faster than ever. It felt like your pussy was exploding. It's true what they say about orgasms. The harder you fight it, the harder you cum. You closed your eyes and let it sweep over you like a tital wave sucking you into the ocean's depths. Convulsing wildly and suspended on Greg's gigantic tool, you were the perfect pornographic picture, easily visible from any window or through any convenient hole in the fence.
Greg arched his back and moaned loudly as he shoved his cock snugly into the depths of your vagina. You knew what was coming. You felt the gush of his semen spraying your cervix. Looking down, you could see his milky ejaculate foaming up over your dark pubic hair as he stirred the mixture inside of you with his powerful shaft. The warmth of it bubbled down your ass cheeks and puddled on the table beneath.
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GoldFinger
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