On the surface his jokes are jokes, but under, in the sewer of his mind, they were not.
"Lift up your shirt." His eyes could not hide his wish that she would.
"You're a pig." Easy, very easy to read his eyes. The bulge in his pants helped too. She was married, knew the look of a man.
"Can I watch you bend over?"
"You're a pig."
"If I cut your grass, do I get a hand job? I have hand cream."
"You're a dirty, fucking pig."
Her smile says it all-he's turning her on.
Something about her always turned him on. It could be her breasts, at least 38D, or double D, he wasn't sure how women's measurements worked. Her eyes are dark, deep, like looking into water in a well at night. Her smile is sunny, warm. She wears her brown hair in a pony tail. He wonders if she lets it flow onto her shoulders when she goes to bed.
That thought usually takes him over his own edge. In the shower, his hand soapy, pumping his raging cock, holding onto the shower wall as his hips join in. He's always picturing her in her bed, hair spread out on her pillow, a bit of moonlight shows her breasts, her fingers busy in between her legs.
"Do you masturbate?"
"You're a pig."
He sees the smile, the blush in her cheeks.
"I do all the time."
"You're a pig."
That smile, her eyes quickly darting to his crotch, her hand moving a strand of hair behind her ear as she looks back at him.
"I would love to watch you touch yourself."
"That's gross, you're a pig."
There was little room in between them, her back to her bedroom door. Her eyes are bright, burning wisps of red in her cheeks.
He steals a kiss, his wonder of what an Italian woman's lips would taste like over. She kisses him back, her free hand touching his shoulder. Breaking the kiss, she looks at him, "you're a pig."
Her door opens behind her, she goes in, not bothering to shut the door and sits on her bed. He follows, closing the door, sitting next to her. "What do you want from me?"
"Everything!"
Smiling, her cheeks like ripe apples, "you're a pig."
"You're...a...fuck...ing...pig1"
Her pants on the floor, his hand deep in her panties, one finger slowly slides along her lips, the tip dripping her oils.
She helps him off with his shirt, her hands rubbing his chest, pinching his nipples, running down his body, unbuckling his belt, opening his pants, her hand going under his shorts, he groans as her soft fingers touch him for the first time.
He tasted his finger, a strong, intoxicating taste on his tongue. Her "you're a pig," was muffled as he shared her taste with her.
Her breasts are quite big, long, eye poking out nipples flicked by his eager tongue.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH! You're a dirty fucking pig!!!!!"
His mouth devoured her lips, his tongue flicking her clit. She lifted into him, her hands pulling him in. "Pig...pig...pig!!!!!!!!!" Nails dug into his scalp, her pussy force feeding him, oils smearing his lips, melting on his tongue. Her thighs clamped the side of his head, pressing harder as her orgasm hit!
"You're a pig!" Tasting herself on his lips, moving down, taking him into her mouth. She tasted a drop of him, strong salt taste, creamy. Her hand griped his base, her lips meeting her fingers, knowing she could get no more of his cock in her mouth.
"Pig! Fuck me pig."
Her body crashed against him, his cock easing into her extremely tight hole. Her tissue gave way for him, gripping as he sank inch after inch into her.
Balls splashed against her lips, her oils a constant running flow. She called him pig, her body arching into his, her hands gripping his arms, legs spreading, ankles locking around his.
She shook, a deep quake as she came, over and over, his cock ramming into her, nails scratching his chest, stomach, back, ass. She squirted, oil dripping from his skin, running down her thighs.
He swelled, doubling in size in her mouth. Salty, thick cum, mixed with her own taste. He squirted much more then she did, long lengths of cum spurting out.
"You're a pig."
She was smiling, her teeth dripping his cum, kissing the head of his soft cock. "Such a fucking pig!!!"
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