Longarm and the War Clouds Read Free Page A

shoved him down onto it, and, kneeling naked before him, her pale breasts with their distended nipples jostling—she was wearing only the diamond earrings now—she pulled off each of his boots in turn.
    She helped him out of his pants and balbriggans. And when all of his clothes were on the floor around her, she placed her hands on his thighs, leaned forward, grabbed his cock around its base with her right hand, and pumped him gently. After a time, she dropped her mouth down over him and started sucking tenderly at first while holding his cock steady with one hand and cupping his balls with the other.
    After about five excruciating minutes of working him over grandly with her lips and tongue, and swallowing him a few times, gagging on the bulbous head, she bobbed her head up and down quickly. She worked him into a raging lather of silently screaming passion.
    Longarm leaned back, stretched his arms and legs out, and released a hot geyser of seed into Cynthia’s mouth and down her throat. She groaned and moaned and gagged, holding her mouth down stubbornly. He could feel her throat spasming against him as he continued to violently spend himself.
    Some of his seed pearled on the tip of her nose.
    When he’d finally stopped bucking and grunting against her, causing the bed to squawk, she lifted her mouth and gasped, rubbing the back of a pale hand across her mouth and nose. Her face was flushed, eyes glazed with tears.
    â€œGod, Custis!” she said, “I thought I was gonna drown!”
    Longarm could only gasp as he lay there, catching his breath and staring at the ceiling, feeling as though an ore dray had dropped a load of rocks on his chest.
    Cynthia rose and walked over to the dresser to pour a glass of water. When she returned, she was carrying a bottle of Tom Moore rye and two water glasses. Longarm sat up as she knelt between his legs again, and she poured them each a drink.
    This was how it usually went. She’d suck him, releasing the fervor and torment of his initial lust, and then they’d have a drink together and flirt and snuggle and fondle each other while he recovered. Then they’d get down to the real business, which they got down to about fifteen minutes after his French lesson and after they’d finished their drinks.
    She pulled the covers back, drew one of the pillows down beneath her hips, and pointed her beautiful ass in the air. As he scuttled up on his knees between her legs, she reached behind her, wrapped her hand around his cock, and squeezed it several times. When it was rock hard, she lowered her hands to the bed and arched her back, wagging her ass.
    â€œGive it to me, Custis. Every inch of that beautiful ax handle! Every beautiful . . .
ahhh, gawd
!”
    â€œYou asked for it.”
    â€œOh, God. Oh, God.”
    â€œShhh. My landlady, darlin’.”
    â€œI’ll try,” Cynthia said throatily, grinding her forehead into the mattress as he hammered against her butt, chomping a cold cigar. “But . . . oh, fuck, Custis . . . oh,
ohhhh-ahhhh . . . 
!”
    She buried her face in the sheets as he continued grinding away, ramming his cock in and out of her as he held her hips firmly in his large, brown hands.
    When she came the first time, she did her best to muffle her love screams, though Longarm was certain that if the old bat downstairs were awake, she’d heard something. She probably wouldn’t know what.
    The second time he fucked the beautiful heiress, from the missionary position, he had to clamp a pillow over her head when she crested her passion, or she likely would not have only awakened his landlady but everyone else in the house as well as the entire neighborhood down to the stockyards.
    Someone might have screamed for the Denver Police.
    The lovers had a drink together, sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed, their limbs glued together by sweat. Longarm smoked his cigar.