Chapter 2

She gripped his prong and brought it to her pussy lips. She felt it dig in. It was a now or never moment. She swabbed the tip up and down her slippery slot and looked at him.

“You had better be good to me,” she warned. She didn’t suggest what the punishment might be if he was not what she considered good to her.

He didn’t worry. Pretty soon she wasn’t going to be thinking about anything but his prick inside her.

“Don’t just sit down on it,” he said. “I’m too long for that right now. We’ll work on getting it all in later.”

“You’ll never get it all in,” she grunted as she fed herself five inches. That was where Rick had stopped. She felt stuffed. When Rick had put his cock in her she felt it. When she pushed down on this man, she felt like she was being pushed apart. It was difficult to put into mental words. Her hand was in the way so she moved it and let her own body weight skewer her on his black pole.

“Ohhhhh, fuuuuuck,” she groaned as parts of her pussy that had never been touched ... got touched.

“Easy, now,” he said, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples gently. “Don’t hurt yourself, now. Lean forward.”

She did and the incredible, intense pressure eased. She let her belly sag and moved, only to find a different kind of pressure. This pressure was on her clit, where it was pinched between his rock-hard abs and his equally hard penis. She sensed, rather than felt, an orgasm hovering in the distance, like some denizen of the night keeping away from a campfire. She rubbed harder and the orgasm pounced, before she was really ready for it.

She froze, her whole body going rigid. His pinching fingers twisted her nipples and squeezed them almost painfully. That melted her and she pushed back down as the orgasm flooded through her. It was the first one her own fingers or sex toy hadn’t created in her since Rick died, and it was devastating. She cried, sobbing as her grief for Rick flooded her along with the orgasm.

He pulled her down and kissed her cheek.

“There, there,” he cooed. “You’ll be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

“I miss him so much,” she bawled.

“He wishes he was here,” said Bob. He wondered if it was over, if she’d rise off of him in the memory of her dead husband and eschew sex forever.

“No he doesn’t,” she sniffled. “All he cared about when he was alive was gambling. He’d rather gamble than fuck me.”

“Then he was an idiot and he can’t wish he was here, because he’s likely in Hell,” said Bob.

She rose up and red-rimmed eyes stared down at him. She had more prick in her than ever before and she felt more under her clit.

“When I get there, I’ll tell him I fucked you and you liked mine better than his.” He grinned.

She slowly dragged her pussy along his cock. He was impossibly hard, for a man with a penis that long. She pushed back and groaned.

“You can cum as many times as you want, doing that. Just don’t push down on it too hard. You’re not ready for that, yet.”

“Not ready for what?”

“Are we here to fuck, or talk and have tea?”

She pulled almost off of him and dangled a nipple on his lips.

“Suck me,” she ordered.

“There’s no milk there, yet,” he said.

Her mind overlooked that “yet” but she’d think about it later.

“Suck them!” she barked.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said.

He gripped her sides, just under her arm pits, and pulled so she couldn’t get away. Then he chewed her left nipple. He didn’t bite it with his teeth, but his lips clamped down hard while he sucked. His teeth got involved, but not in a way that hurt at all. She gasped and instinct made her move back, filling her pussy again. She was suddenly so full of energy she had to work some off, so she slid forward and back, over and over again, as fast as she could. She wrenched an orgasm from her clit and bared her teeth as it bit her like his mouth was biting her nipples.

She kept going, but stopped counting after four. Rick had never given her four orgasms at one time. Nobody ever had. But she kept going. He stopped sucking to growl, “Honey, you got a snapping pussy and you’re gonna make me cum.”

She went harder, if anything. She felt like she was killing something and she didn’t want it to die. She needed to stop and let it rest and recuperate. She couldn’t stop, though, until the insane prick inside her softened, and was no good for orgasms anymore.

“Ooooo, yeah,” he grunted.

She paused as a glow of heat filled her from the inside out. He was cumming.

No. He was gushing.

She had barely felt it when Rick climaxed. Now she could feel Bob’s cum squirting out of her, where her pussy lips clamped on his cock. She remembered those balls and grunted as she clenched his cock. She didn’t know why she did it. She would have been horrified ... or at least upset ... if she knew her subconscious mind had already decided not to let this magnificent penis go to waste in the future.

It was hers. So her muscles clamped down to assert her claim.

She couldn’t think of things on that plane, however. His hot cum energized her and she decided to get one more quick one before he got completely soft.

Except he didn’t get soft.

He did get less hard, but only enough that she could tell the difference. Now, when she dragged her clit along the bottom, it felt like her clit was harder than his cock, and was digging a trough in his penis. That trough fit around her little organ perfectly, rubbing it on three sides. She couldn’t mash her clit anymore, but the sensation was even more ridiculous than before.

“How?” she gasped.

“I told you I don’t go soft until I cum three times,” he said. “That was one, and you sucked it out of me before I was ready. I’m gonna have to be careful with you.”

Again, her mind missed the hint that he thought there would be a continuing relationship between them. All she could think about was that she could keep going.

The orgasms she had now felt different, probably because the penis in her felt different, somehow. They weren’t as intense. They were more like sinking into a tub full of hot water and bubble bath. Because he was softer, when she rotated, his penis rotated with her and did not resist being moved. At the same time it stayed hard enough to fill her completely, as if her pussy was a thin rubber glove and his cock was a big hand. She didn’t pay attention to how long she went. She just kept chasing one more of those delicious, warm orgasms. It wasn’t like any sex she’d ever had, real or imagined.

Suddenly she fell to one side. She squawked as she bounced off the dirty mattress with her shoulder.

“You need to rest,” he said.

She realized she was gasping and imagined her O2 being below 90, because she felt light-headed.

“What?”

“You can’t go that hard without resting,” he said.

She looked at him and blinked. Suddenly, everything her mind had shoved to one side, because it was too busy having fun, rushed into her mind.

She had used this man for ... how long? She looked at her watch. She blinked.

“Shit! We’ve been doing this for a whole hour! I have to go get the girls!”

She sat up and looked at the man lying beside her. He looked relaxed. His fucking penis was still hard, lying from his groin to his navel. She bit her lip to keep from saying they weren’t finished.

“Go get ‘em,” he said. “I’m pretty happy. It’s been a long time since I made a woman feel that good. My leg doesn’t even hurt.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. It was instinctive. They had not kissed before this, but she felt like she had to do that and, oddly, it felt normal to feel his lips pressing against hers.

“Thank you,” she said.

“There’s lots more of that if you ever want to go again.”

“I can’t think about that right now. I have to clean up and go get the girls.”

“Then I’ll see you around,” he said.

He stood and, without getting dressed, limped to the gate that led to his yard.

The last she saw of him was his tight, black ass.

He had a good one.

Once she picked up the girls her duties as a mom forced earlier events out of her mind. It wasn’t until she went to bed that she could think about the episode. When she was in the shower she was annoyed that the details escaped her. She knew she’d had sex with Bob Wagoner and she knew it was, undeniably, the best sex she’d ever had, but she just couldn’t remember the actual feelings she had experienced as all those orgasms had pummeled her.

And they had pummeled her. There was no other word for it. When she had gotten up she had felt light-headed as she stumbled into the house. She had gone naked, like he had, and taken a quick shower. Her mind kept trying to come up with an explanation as to how a middle-age man she barely knew, and who was not her type in any way, shape, or form, could affect her so strongly. Yes, he was longer and thicker than any other man she’d had, but size alone couldn’t be that important. Could it? No. There had been something else, something intangible that was very important. It was so important, in fact, that she already knew she would have to investigate it further.

He had said there was more where that came from.

“There had better be,” she muttered as she left the house.

She felt relatively recovered when she picked up the girls and thanked Mrs. Hibbard, apologizing for picking them up so late.

“Nonsense,” said the old, black woman. “They’re much better behaved than my own granddaughters. Leave them with me any time.”

She felt lucky that she had seen the faded, hand-made sign that said “Childcare” in the window of Mrs. Hibbard’s house and inquired. The old woman had been so sweet and so accommodating. And she didn’t charge much, either. Now she “knew” another black person. But that was a whole other can of worms.

What was she going to do? She knew she’d go crazy if she couldn’t remember the best sex of her life. But she couldn’t go to him and say, “Can we do that again?” It would be too embarrassing ... humiliating. It would make her feel like a slut. It would give him the wrong idea.

She had to use her dildo for an entire hour before she could get to sleep. It was easy to cum because she thought about him and the open air and that filthy mattress the whole time. She felt like she’d snuck off with a cousin while they were at a family reunion, and let him pop her cherry. That image was just as ridiculous as this whole thing. She had done it only to escape having to do the same thing with French.

Was she glad she’d chosen that way?

Hell, yes. There was not a hint of doubt in her mind. Letting Bob Wagoner get her on that mattress was one of the best things she’d ever done.

And that was ridiculous, too!

Her last thought, as consciousness left her, was: “He stays as hard as my dildo and he’s longer and warmer.”

She heard noises outside the next morning and looked out to see the hood of her car up and a man’s body leaning in. She saw by how the left leg was twisted that it was Bob. She took a deep breath and went out to see what was going on.

“Hey,” she said, noncommittally.

“Hey,” he returned. “Saw you trying to start it and giving up. Thought I’d take a look at it.”

“It’s old,” she said. “It’s a piece of junk.”

“It’s not a piece of junk,” he said. “In fact, it’s in pretty good shape. I put my analyzer on it and it said you had a bad O2 sensor. I just got finished putting a new one in, but I don’t have the keys to try it.”

Feeling a surge of hope, Lonny ran into the house and returned with the keys. She saw Bob’s eyes watch her bouncing breasts, but decided she didn’t care. If the car worked she might let him see them bare again.

It caught instantly and roared to life. She felt an almost orgasmic sense of relief. She could get to a job interview scheduled for later that day. She turned the car off and got out.

“I’ll tell you what I was thinking before I tried starting the car, but you have to let me pay for the repair, first.”

“Deal,” he said.

“How much?” she asked.

He looked up at the sky and began counting on his fingers. She felt her glow of hope fade.

“Well,” he said. “The part was thirty-two dollars. And my labor was ... when have I ever charged you labor, Lonny?”

The hope flooded back.

“I’ll give you back thirty-two of the money you gave me,” she said.

“Fine. Now. What were you thinking?”

She blushed.

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