Chapter 52: Various Completions

There was a knock on Mary Nally's bedroom door. Mary levered herself up on the couch, "Come in!"

"Hi, Punkin."

"Hi, Pop."

"Your mother's all proud of herself for her meddling."

"Yeah, I know." Mary had stayed upstairs when she detected the roaring fight her parents were having at dinnertime. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. I let it all hang out, since she was. Let her know that things weren't peachy and that I wasn't a monk." Arthur settled in the recliner and started polishing his eyeglasses with his tie. "As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer grounded -- but your mother is another matter. Who knows? There may be divorce in the air..."

"Really?" This WAS bad!

"Yeah." Arthur sat a moment, musing. "I think your mother may have seen someone, 'way back, and she decided that I wasn't anything much... I've tried to be good, but that just meant I drifted into odd territory."

"Like?"

"Peep booths. Adult theaters. Anonymous meetings with others who needed sex as much as I did."

Mary nodded. "Guys, right?"

Arthur nodded. "I was trying to justify things -- to say I was being faithful, after a fashion... Of course, it's easier that way -- women want the exclusive thing. Guys just want sex..."

"Yeah, I know," Mary agreed. "Did you give Momma anything specific to worry about?"

"No."

"Maybe she'll cool down."

"The racist thing has her going hot and heavy -- and the homosexual aspects are icing on the cake." Arthur shook his head.

"Look, I'm not giving them up!" Mary insisted.

"I'm not asking you to," Arthur replied. "But your mother can make trouble for them..."

"She already tried!" Mary rasped. "She called Teddy's mom, and tried to get him into trouble -- but it didn't happen. Teddy came clean with his Ma and everything is cool!"

"I heard about that," her father replied, "although she presented it differently."

Mary mused a moment. "If she calls Stick's folks, his daddy is likely to laugh at her, since we already gave them the cover story." She grinned. "Maybe he'll make some comment about her being jealous of me over black dick..."

"Oh, man!" Arthur rubbed his face, but he was grinning. "What I wouldn't give to see THAT!"

"Which one, Pop?" Mary rejoined, "Stick's Daddy teasing Momma, or her taking some?"

Arthur sobered. "Well, both, actually. It might take the heat off of me... Besides, if someone got past her crap and got that thing working again, we ALL might be happier!" He sighed. "In the meantime, things are out in the open. I called her a hateful, frigid bitch, a racist, a homophobe, and fourteen other kinds of intolerant cunt -- but she wasn't doing a lot of listening and she assumed the worst when it came to MY activities." He sighed. "My secretary is likely to catch Hell -- and she doesn't deserve it -- but she's almost sixty, and if Irma has any sense, she'll realize..."

"You ought to go out and get something nice, Pop," Mary declared, "while there is still time!"

"It's probably already too late," Arthur sighed.

"Well, don't let ME hold you up if you need to move on -- I love Momma, but she's not good to you -- and if she's going to go after me, too..." Mary shrugged.

"We'll see. Good night, Punkin."

"G'night, Pop."

Arthur headed for the den, having decided that sleeping in his recliner was preferable to being in the same room with his wife. That left Irma plenty of time to scheme about ways to be rid of Mary's black boyfriend...

Leticia was pretty sure that Boris was asleep, but unsure what that meant for her. She'd not been allowed to leave after the ass-fuck; instead, Boris had made her crawl into his lap while he reclined in his recliner, wedging his softened cock against her extremely sore ass while he watched soft porn on cable and played with her nipples -- all the while complaining about her small titties...

Now, he appeared to be asleep, and she needed to pee -- what was the answer, here? Well, the bladder thing was urgent; she would cross the other bridge when she came to it. She struggled up carefully; Boris continued to snore gently. Pleased, she padded off to the bathroom.

That business was easily handled. Leticia returned to the sitting room and stood over Boris, eyeing him in the flickering light of the softly murmuring television. Now what? She couldn't imagine getting back onto Boris's lap without waking him, and was uncertain what the outcome of that might be. On the other hand, if she returned to her quarters without a release from the big bear, Mr. Wilson would punish her even if HE didn't! Idly, she took him in; he was wide, squat -- but not fat -- she had learned THAT the hard way! Oh, he was thick in the middle, but he could toss her around like she was nothing while pile-driving her with that fat cock of his...

Boris did not open his eyes, but suddenly he rumbled, "You should be kneeling on floor..."

'Oh, shit!' Leticia's knees gave of their own accord; she cleaned up the position after they thumped on the floor so that she was kneeling properly upright, legs spread, hands on her thighs.

Boris made a production of opening his eyes. "Good. I would not want to have to open your tushie again tonight..."

Leticia couldn't agree more! "No, Sir."

"Go to the bed and make yourself wet. I wish to do things the regular way." Leticia nodded and rose. "Little one! Crawl!" Leticia stopped, dropped to hands and knees, and resumed heading for the bedroom, chastening herself. Had he told her to crawl everywhere? She didn't remember that...

Boris levered the chair to its upright position, silently amused. Best to keep her jumping, and set high standards early. So, should he get another blowjob? Enjoy those thick negress's lips? Or fuck her again? Fuck. Definitely. He got up, scratching his chest, and ambled into the bedroom, flicking off the TV on the way.

Leticia, flat on her back with her legs splayed and both hands in her crotch, watched the big bear enter the room. Getting wet wasn't that hard tonight; she was already working three fingers in her tunnel while whipping her clit with her other hand. It was as embarrassing as Hell to masturbate like that, but, hey, if he liked it... Besides, she'd done it the day before.

Boris DID like it, too! "So, you know what it is to get ready for Boris, eh? Good!" he approved. Walking around to the side of the bed, he took her head in his hands and repositioned her using it as a handle, causing her to scramble a bit. "Continue, but give Boris your lips... Ahhhh... Little titties you may have, but you know how to suck..." His thick cock disappeared into Leticia's mouth. Holding her by the head, he pumped himself in and out a few times, then held still while she laved him with her tongue. More pumping, for a half-dozen strokes, then another pause while she sucked and lapped on her own...

Something about the involuntary portions of the blowjob -- when he manhandled her head and jammed his thick cock into her mouth -- set off washes of wetness in Leticia's vaginal passage -- along with making her more than happy to conduct the more voluntary actions. The whole thing enhanced her masturbation, which fed back on the blowjob, too. Leticia was taking big breaths through her nose, not because Boris was interfering with her breathing, but purely from excitement.

Boris withdrew his cock from Leticia's mouth, the pop as her lips let go an indication of just how into the blowjob Leticia had gotten. "We fuck, now." He circled around and got up on the bed.

Leticia stopped masturbating; it was apparent that foreplay, such as it was, was over -- but then, she was in pretty good shape, anyway, from the masturbation and the face-fuck. She raised her knees, Boris knelt up and placed his blunt cock at her opening, and Leticia reflected that this night's effort probably wouldn't compare with the previous one; after all, Boris had already cum in her ass...

She was wrong. "Grab your knees," Boris grunted, then proceeded to grasp her by the hips and pull her onto his thick joint as if she were an inflatable doll. Leticia's eyes popped, and her mouth opened to emit a squeal of pain brought on by the abrupt insertion, but Boris grunted, "Nyet! Silence!" and she removed the vocal component, settling for a whooshing breath. At that point, the fucking machine went to work and Leticia realized that Boris's energy didn't seem to be sapped by his earlier efforts after all! He shoveled his hands under her just above her narrow hips, keeping her from being pushed up the bed by his pounding attack as his battering ram of a cock forced her open again and again, penetrating her until his pubic bone smashed into hers over her clit.

There was no escape, and the pounding was relentless; Leticia HAD to react! Boris was ironing her inner lining and crashing into her clit twice a second; Leticia hauled on her knees, hunching herself -- which lessened the impact on her clitoris, but gave Boris a straighter shot into the depths of her quaking tunnel. That penetration and the fact that softer was better where clitoral contact was concerned put Leticia on the rollercoaster ride to her first orgasm of the evening. Thirty seconds later, Leticia lost it, dropping her grip on her knees and instinctively arching herself as she wrapped her arms around Boris's neck and crushed herself to him, wailing out her completion. Boris took this interruption in his own quest for orgasm in stride, chuckling, "Little slut enjoys her work, eh? You like riding Boris's cock?" Since Leticia was obviously unable to respond for the moment, Boris merely chuckled again and resumed pounding, powering right through her period of rigidity and the collapse that followed. When she started showing signs of resuming full consciousness, Boris grunted, "We are not done yet, Little One -- you must take Boris's seed again! Be ready -- Boris will get HIS now!" With that, he slid his hands up under Leticia's shoulders, lowering himself, and resumed jack-hammering her twat -- faster, if anything. He began nibbling and sucking at her neck, something that started gently but escalated until he was nipping her and emitting guttural growls -- but Leticia was already far gone on the way to her second cumming, and all the work on her neck did was raise her temperature! Leticia started shaking, a sure sign that a big one was coming -- and Boris rose up and howled, "Now it comes! Now you take it! Now you be WOMAN!!! HAAAAAA!!!!" Once again, he scooped her up and manhandled her up and down on his hot poker the half-dozen times that it took to bring him to his final extremity, then erupted inside her, flooding her distended gash with his boiling cum.

Leticia felt the first shot blast into her passage, spurting onto her cervix, and she went wild, the promised orgasm stiffening her in a frozen arch supported by Boris's heavy cock and his powerful hands. Boris continued to pound himself into her crotch, howling, for a half-dozen strokes before grinding her crotch into his while she undulated to the waves of her orgasm. Finally, she relaxed, and went limp -- and Boris rode her dead weight to the bed, collapsing atop her, his energy finally leached away, his last thought as he rolled off the skinny negress a vague intention of offering a word of approval that was snatched away by unconsciousness before it reached his lips.

Bianca was soaked! Pete had given her a thorough examination, even working his index finger slowly into her cunny -- and it had been SOOOO good, but she was holding his beautiful cock, and it was SOOOO big! "Pete, I'm scared... It's so big!"

Pete shrugged. "Okay, then we won't..."

"No, no! That's NOT what I meant! But am I wet enough?"

"Well, you're pretty wet, but you're also pretty tight -- I'd like to have some lube available, but I don't have any..."

"Don't you have anything oily around here?" Bianca whined.

"Not that I'm aware of. I could go looking for something elsewhere, but..." Romance had been killed once today, already. Damn! She looked good enough to eat! Waitaminnit... "I think maybe we'll just supply a little more stimulation..." Pete lowered his face to Bianca's crotch.

"Dios mio!" Pete's mouth -- his tongue -- washed over her labia, then delved into her channel. Bianca barely had time to react to that before Pete's tongue found her clitoris and things got REALLY intense! Her hips rolled and she moaned aloud, "Oh, my God!" Her hands settled onto his head, burying themselves in his dark curls as wave after wave of sensation rolled over her, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" His cock was there, in front of her face, and it was irresistible. She sucked in the tip and closed her eyes, transferring the sensations flooding her back to Pete -- not really working at it -- she didn't have the available attention for that -- just sucking the head and washing it with her tongue.

This was a minor distraction to Pete, but it was pleasant; he let it ride and concentrated on the tongue-lashing he was giving Bianca's crotch. Saliva wasn't an incredible lubricant, but when he worked his finger back into the entrance of her channel, it was clear that Bianca was juicing. Bianca's hymen wasn't really intact -- he could work through it with his finger -- but there was plenty there to tear when something larger entered. Still, from her strained grunts, thrashing legs and surging abdomen, and the death grip she had on his head, Pete's tactic was working and it was getting to be time to take advantage of that success. Backing off for a second, he asked, "How about now? Are you ready?"

"Ooogh! Yessss!" Bianca wailed. The finger in her vaginal mouth caused the occasional twinge, but it was also doing wonderful things -- and that tongue! My God!

"Okay, I need a rubber. Get it from the nightstand..." Bianca didn't react immediately, so he cajoled, "C'mon, Sweetie, we have to be safe..."

Bianca was barely there. She had an orgasm on the way, and trying to do something was going to put that off. Still, it was what she was here for... She struggled to get at the drawer and fish out the little foil packet, fought to tear it, then examined the ring-shaped rubber owlishly, trying to determine which side was the inside and which was out, while her clitoris itched and tingled and screamed its urgency and the promise of suffusing her with pleasure.

"Give it to me, Sweetie," Pete murmured. He hated the things, but there was no way he could risk making Bianca pregnant. He had to withdraw the finger in her vaginal mouth, which caused a mewl of disappointment -- but he needed both hands to fit the rubber. Now to get her over the top... He repositioned and knelt between her legs, opening her up with his thumbs while he worked her labia and clitoris, avoiding her vaginal mouth as he figured that her natural lubrication was superior to spit.

Bianca opened her legs as widely as she could, lifting her knees and rocking as the orgasm Pete had been creating rushed at her, "Oh! Oh! Oh..." Then it hit -- that wave of ecstasy! Pete's tongue created an orgasmic release in her unlike anything she had ever experienced; she surged and hunched herself against Pete's head, clutching him to her while she rode it out, "UuuuuuuuUUUUUUUGGGGHHH!!!" The thing seemed to go on for hours -- and DID for a good ninety seconds; Pete was in a fine position to know, since she wasn't giving him a whole lot of room to breathe. Finally, she collapsed and relaxed her grip on his head, "Oooooohhhh..."

Pete raised himself. "I think it's time now, Sweetie..." It was best to get her now, while she was relaxed from the aftermath...

"Yesssss..." leaked from Bianca's lips. Pete didn't know whether she was agreeing with him or still on another planet, but either way he figured that he had the go-ahead. He repositioned, wedging the head of his stiff cock in her entrance.

Bianca looked on, watching the procedure through the valley of her desire-flushed breasts with a curious detachment brought on by the aftermath of her tremendous orgasm. There was a distant twinge of fear, but the lassitude in her muscles didn't allow her to make the instinctive move to close her knees. Neither did it grant her the capability of uttering an intelligible response when Pete asked, "Are you ready?" -- all she got out was "Uuhhmmm..."

Her eyes were washed out, too; Pete took that calm expression and her mumble as confirmation, and initiated the procedure, snapping his hips to bury the first two inches of his cock in her. Pete had considered taking it slowly, but that seemed to merely prolong the inevitable and ultimately provide more pain...

"Ow!" Despite the warning and the expectation, the stinging flash of pain and the certain realization that something had been damaged surprised Bianca. Pete stopped moving immediately, though, so things backed off pretty quickly -- except for an unprecedented feeling of fullness. That Pete wasn't fully inside her was obvious; could she take it all?

"Let me know when we can continue," Pete gasped. "The worst should be over, but I want you to get used to things..." Bianca's vagina had his glans in what felt like a death grip -- like a cork in a bottle -- but it was also hot and wet enough to feel just about perfect.

Bianca merely nodded, wide-eyed, thinking, 'My God, I'm a woman!' They hadn't gotten to the fun part yet, but that rip -- that was it! The protective seal was off; she was 'used'! Even at her age, she knew enough to realize that many women never got to the 'fun part' and that Pete was working hard to see to it that she wasn't one of them -- but the deed was done; if Pete went no further, she was still deflowered. Only then did she suffer a momentary pang of buyer's remorse; it dawned on her that now that her status had changed, childhood was gone, in some ways, and in the race to adulthood she might have undervalued what she had...

And then Pete moved...

Actually, he backed up a bit; it was just too good for him to be able to not move at all, so he backed up just a touch. And, yeah, there was still a raw place -- but it was sort of itchy, like a paper cut, and every OTHER nerve in contact with Pete's cock was reporting that something with a new, different, and thoroughly pleasant texture was stimulating it! "Oh!"

"Are you okay?" Pete was instantly solicitous. Dammit! He should have waited!

"Oh, yes! In!" Her hands went to his hips to coax him, but she retained SOME caution, "Easy..."

"Let me know..." He started forward. Her hands encouraged him to recover the territory he'd vacated and a bit more before shifting to applying pressure to halt him. Pete got it, stopped, and slowly reversed. The back-stroke was good for both of them; Bianca's lining clutched the flared crown of his glans, and her ruptured hymen complained less about being pulled on than being pushed on. Still, Bianca was tugging as soon as the ridge passed her opening, so Pete headed back in.

This time, he got about halfway before Bianca signaled a halt -- and it WAS a halt; she resisted him backing out, too! "Stay there a second," she panted. The shreds of her maidenhead were giving her grief on the in- stroke -- something that the rubber was undoubtedly not helping -- so she called a halt to give herself a chance to lubricate. The fact that this was her first time got her a bit more lubrication than she would normally gotten, too -- in the form of blood -- but she didn't know that. All she knew was that it got wetter, so she coaxed Pete back into motion.

Pete started backing, but Bianca signaled that she wanted deeper penetration, so he eked out another three-quarters of an inch before her hands requested a reversal. This time, they savored his full retreat before her hands told him it was time to piston forward.

This time it was easier on her -- smoother, and a little faster. Pete was instinctively kicking it up a notch as the urge to bury himself to the hilt in his hindbrain struggled with his conscious desire not to hurt his partner any more than necessary. He took another full inch of territory before she got her hands placed to stop him; it was a bit more than she would have let him have if her control had been better, but ultimately it didn't hurt anything.

The withdrawal was faster, too -- and the new depth and time and other factors brought to her eyes a dark stain streaking the shaft of Pete's piston. That caused another signaled halt; Pete glanced down to track Bianca's widened eyes, "Oh. It's... not a lot..." Bianca nodded tentatively and released him.

Since the in-stroke continued to be less pleasant, Pete opted for a quick one -- and hurtled right past his previous mark. Obviously, Bianca was adapting... Her eyes popped, but Pete backed out more slowly, and she began to smile. He stopped naturally at the normal point -- the crown of his glans gripped by her opening -- and powered forward again, this time going to the hilt and granting a little clitoral stimulation. Her eyes flickered in surprise again, but she was beyond attempting to control him and he was beyond requiring it; clit bashing was a good thing, and he hadn't QUITE bottomed out inside her -- and the irritation to her ruptured hymen was just that -- an irritation. One side-effect of Pete's sharp in-stroke was that the tissues were unable to resist, and thus were rapidly abrading away and becoming less and less of an obstacle. He continued to stretch the out-stroke until it was clear that she had accommodated him to the point that they both required more friction, at which point he went into more steady motion.

Bianca experienced her first sex with a male as a series of amazing changes of state; she was full -- she was empty -- she was full -- she was empty -- full -- empty -- full... Fullness was satiety, the impact of Pete's pubic bone on her clitoris (the only stimulation she had known, previously) the cherry on top; emptiness left her unsatisfied, pining for fulfillment -- and the friction of the transitional phases brought pleasure... Very quickly she stopped watching Pete's cock pistoning into her -- now it was time to FEEL it, to concentrate on the pleasure. She rubbed his flanks, watching the expressions flicker across his face; some of them would have been hilarious, except for the obvious fact that Pete's entire being was focused on feeling his cock, tuning its action as an instrument of pleasure. At this moment, Pete WAS his cock -- everything else was merely the delivery system. Amazing to her was the fact that she could process any thoughts at all, floating on an ever more urgently rising plateau of pleasure -- but then, maybe it was instinct -- after all, her hips were rolling, tuning themselves to Pete's motions in order to get the maximum amount of pleasure, her feet on the bed so she could hunch and lift her pelvis to meet his more and more powerfully pounding strokes. She didn't think about it -- her body just did what her vagina said was the most pleasurable thing...

Pete was beyond conscious thought, too; it had dropped away when Bianca started spurring him on with little touches, lifting her pelvis, and murmuring "Ummm... ummm... ummm... ummm... "; (Interestingly, she was basically unaware of two of those activities... ). Now, what capacity for attention that wasn't focused on his efforts at providing them both with pleasure was focused on her eyes -- eyes which seemed to get larger and more luminous by the minute. Was it any wonder that when they got huge in the realization that the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced was rolling down upon her, then went flat and unseeing as the explosion swept her consciousness before it, that he experienced a sympathetic detonation, riding the first wave of his ejaculate in it's race to her womb?

Pete was the first to recover. "I'm sorry, Sweetie..."

"Huh?" Bianca looked confused. "Why?"

"Well, I hoped to give you two..."

"But it was wonderful! Perfect!" Bianca gushed.

Pete shrugged. "I'm glad you feel that way. But there might have been more, if I hadn't gotten all caught up in your excitement..."

Bianca smiled and hugged Pete to her. "That wasn't a BAD thing! That was a GOOD thing! It... adds to it -- I was good for YOU, too!"

"Oh, yeah! Very!" Pete agreed.

"See?" Bianca preened a bit. "I was ready, after all."

"So you're all right?"

"Uh huh. Great! I feel... complete!" Bianca smiled sunnily.

"It didn't hurt too much?"

"Oh, no! You did everything just right!"

"I was worried that I got away from myself, there..." Pete admitted.

"It was time... If it hadn't hurt at all, that might have been better -- but then it would have been no big deal, either! No, this was just about perfect..." She hugged him to her. "Let's go to sleep."

"Ummm, not a good idea," Pete countered. "We need to get rid of the rubber. I'm gonna shrink, and then there could be a mess -- even, potentially, a failure... If your belly started to swell, your Mama would be VERY unhappy..." He grinned to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm gonna have to pee..."

Bianca grimaced. The idea of having Pete withdraw from her brought instinctive resistance -- she LIKED that full feeling! But he was probably shrinking already... "Oh, all right. I'm gonna ask Mama for birth control."

"I'd insist on it, if I were her," Pete agreed, "but she's Catholic..." He started backing off, reaching down to ensure that the rubber was coming with him.

"Then I'll go through Mister Jason!" Bianca insisted, mildly petulant.

"That'll probably work," Pete agreed, his attention more on rubber extraction. He'd FLOODED the damned thing! There was semen halfway back up the shaft! "Wow! I really loaded this thing..."

Bianca sat up to watch, and noticed the other issue -- bloodstains. "Oops! We should have used a towel! Your sheets..."

Pete looked up from peeling off the rubber and smirked, "Does either of us need a souvenir?"

"Pete!"

"Just kidding. Don't people in your country have some kind of tradition of showing it off?"

"Well, that's after a wedding, to prove that the bride was virginal to her marriage bed. I'm afraid that this would be a negative thing..."

"Oh. Sorry!"

"I wanted it this way."

The aside put a damper on things for a moment; Pete got up and disposed of the rubber, washed himself off, got in his post-coital leak, and returned to Bianca bearing a wet washrag and a towel. "Let's see to you..." There ensued a period of cleanup and examination; the damage didn't seem to be any too extensive, and most of the blood was either on the sheets or had been carried off on the rubber. "Okay, now what?"

"I still want to sleep with you." Bianca replied. "I'd have kept you inside me, if I could..."

"That's a great way to become a mother..." Pete chided.

"That's so bad?"

"Wait a couple of years," Pete advised. "Why don't you climb on top?"

"I'd like that!" Bianca did so, arranging the blankets over them.

Pete got the light. "G'night, Sweetie." That was the last thing said, but a lot of necking and skin on skin contact followed before the pair drifted off...

Paul Matheson lay awake in bed, pondering the changes that had occurred in the past couple of days. Tabitha had drained his balls -- again -- and had been manic about it, riding him cowgirl style, hard and fast; Paul smiled at the memory of her titties going every which way while she bounced up and down, giving him the play by play: "Oh, shit this is good! Damn, Lover, I just LOVE this pecker of yours -- it seems ta have just the curve in it ta rub on my G-spot! Shit, I'm gonna have two black eyes from these things floppin' around..." Paul didn't have a history of serious success in this position, for a couple of reasons -- the vast majority of his partners of late weren't built for it, and it surrendered a little too much in the way of control -- once they got going in that position, women generally started sliding back and forth on a cock, rather that running it in and out, which could be painful for the male. But Tabitha managed to get hers without succumbing to temptation and while allowing him to hunch into her from below; add the grip of that amazing pussy and you got an incredibly satisfactory ride...

Tabitha made it fun, too -- the crazy crap that came out of her mouth indicated that she was there for fun, not because she expected him to be romantically interested in her -- and the 'fuck buddy' approach had him actually feeling around inside the door of the trap, rather than defending himself. Now, while she lay atop him, boneless, snoring softly, Paul was going back and forth with himself over how insane it was versus how good it was. Rational thought told him that there was no reasonable expectation of a future to the relationship; there were a ton of obstacles, including color, her profession, his profession, her addictive personality, the fact that both of them were more or less set in their ways... On the other hand, Tabitha seemed fine with most of that shit and kept insisting on crawling into bed with him. What to do about it wasn't clear; if he continued to accept those advances until she changed her mind, was he taking advantage of her? If he was, (and his gut told him so), could he bring himself to make commitments, given his track record?