Erotic Amusements Read Free Page B

in his crotch ground against her wet pussy. “I want to fuck you,” he clarified. “That’s what you want too, isn’t it?”
    “Mmm,” she agreed, her hands in his thick black hair, her mouth on his metallic-tasting skin.
    “Tell me.”
    “I want you to fuck me.”
    “How?”
    “Long and hard, really long, really hard.”
    “I can do that, sweetheart.” He prised himself off her and stood. “But you can’t lie on that rock—you’ll bruise your spine. Here.” He put out a hand to pull her up. Her legs were like water and she was dizzy. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers with thrilling deliberation, smirking and glinting at her under his black eyebrows.
    “You want me to lie on the beach?” she asked doubtfully. The shingle contained numerous sharp little pebbles and didn’t look especially comfortable.
    “No.” He began to unzip the fly of his leather trousers, then eased them down over his hips. His erection sprang out, unconfined by any underwear, looking hard and angry and more than ready to take out its rage on her. Leaving the trousers dropped to midthigh level, he sat his bare arse down on the rock and beckoned Flipp over. “Bring the gloves,” he suggested, bewilderingly.
    She handed them over and he placed each one at either side of him. “Padding,” he explained. “For your knees.” He reached inside his trouser pocket and brought out a rubber, skinning it on with practised speed. “Come on, then. I’ve taken you for a ride today. Now you can return the favour.” Brazenly he leaned back on his palms, letting his upright staff do the rest of the inviting.
    Well, it would be rude not to, wouldn’t it? Flipp planted her feet outside his legs and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. Shuffling up the long line of his lower limbs, she was eventually able to establish herself on the rock, kneeling on the gloves. He grabbed her bottom and helped her to lower her body, down and down, until her sex hovered over his, ready for the plunge.
    She took it inside her slowly, savouring each inch of length and each fraction of stretching girth, looking him in the face with round, astonished eyes and mouth. Oh, it feels so good. Oh, it’s been so long. Oh, it is so long. And so thick. And so good. She yielded and flexed, admitting him all the way in until she sat fully astride the magnificent monster, impaled to the hilt. It felt so comfortable that, for a long time, they just sat there, connected at their roots and at their lips, kissing hungrily and feeling the evening breeze on their naked flesh, until Rocky grew impatient, slapped her bum hard and growled, “Come on, you’ve got work to do. Ride that cock horse hard.”
    Flipp gave him her all; every shred of strength and effort went into the endeavour of milking him dry. She circled, ground, clenched, sucked, bit, tongued, palmed, pinched, keeping that lovely long stick of rock well buried inside. She made him sigh, then pant, then moan, then clamp his mouth over her nipple and suck for all he was worth, his eyelashes fluttering against her breast. He gripped her bottom cheeks so hard she thought he would leave finger marks as he pushed her, forced her back down on his rod, reminding her that she was filled and that she was his.
    “That’s it, deeper, baby, harder, sweetheart,” he raved, releasing her nipple once he had sucked it almost purple. “Fucking ride it, ride it, take it, take it. Are you going to come? I want to make you come again.”
    This simple statement of intent always seemed to do the trick for Flipp. She slapped her hands down hard on his shoulders, squeezed her muscles tightly around his shaft and bore down, determined to drag the climax from inside him and bring it roaring into the open air. She began to gasp, short breaths, carrying the unmistakable whimper of orgasm, and then his voice was washing into the waves and gull cries and shifting shale, a different kind of force of nature,