Johnny's place was facing the ocean on Wrightsville beach. It was a palatial four-story building with what seemed like an endless array of decking surrounding it on each and every level.

As we pulled into his garage, he told me that he shared the place with his brother, currently in Argentina on business.

We took the winding stairs to his bedroom on the third floor; Johnny wanted me to lead the way. Naturally, since I have a world class ass and wanted nothing more than to flaunt it in his face, I gladly led the way, knowing how it would appear to him, having practiced the moves countless times in front of a mirror.

The steps even served to exaggerate the sway of my ass. Halfway up the second flight, Johnny reached his hand between my legs. Fingertips extended to my pubis, his palm cupped the curve of the perineum, while the heel and the wrist rested on the upward swerve of my buttocks. The feeling was such that I froze in place, feet on different steps. I had to clutch the railing while he stroked my sopping pussy before flipping my sundress up and bestowing a wet kiss to my ass.

Another ten minutes passed ... an eternity in some ways ... before reaching the bedroom.

He tilted my head and kissed me, spilling a long string of his saliva from his mouth into mine — then followed with his knowing tongue.

"Ohhhh Johnny," I moaned and not for the first time that night.

We sank into the mattress of his bed, his massive frame on top of me. The kisses continued without pause and I was nearing another heavenly climax when he griped me by the throat, his powerful fingers depressing the skin and muscle, the clutch of the hand constricting my breathing while his lips muffled my voice.

How he finished undressing me with one free hand I'll never know. But he managed it without tearing the dress. Of course, the only other things I had on were my bra and shoes.

He released my throat and I swallowed as much air as I could before he wadded my thong into a ball and stuffed it into my cunt. He left it there, leaving me full inside, while he sprawled on the bed and licked my lips and diddled my clit.

I was ready to shatter after a few short minutes of his softly insistent tongue, the silky saliva, the pads of the fingers holding my pubis taut; and the pincers of his nails and his pointed teeth, but, as he refused me permission to let go, I closed my eyes and fought the orgasm back. Hands balled into fists, I beat at the sheets as I restrained the force that yearned to burst. It was a long ten minutes before he gave me his consent. He counted the ticks off one by one, all the while working me with his lips and fingers, until at last he acceded to my increasingly urgent pleas, moans, and tears.

It's what I deserve for telling him that there were times when orgasm denial caused me to fountain, and though this time I didn't, the orgasm nevertheless shredded through my insides and ripped me apart.

Afterwards, he stole his forefinger and thumb into the ruins of my cunt and ripped the cloth from my pussy with a sharp tug. The movement set me off again. The waters of my orgasm had drenched the fabric, turning the vivid scarlet a dark and deep burgundy. He had me hold my mouth wide open and stick out my tongue while he wrung the drops of wetness from the cloth onto my stretched out tongue, and I drank of myself.

He lay next to me, stroking my breasts and face with his feet. I tasted the thick skin of his dusky soles, and sucked his toes five at a time.

Several minutes later he painted my ass crimson with his bare hand while I stretched myself over his lap and squirmed and sobbed with renewed joy.

After the spanking, he bit my buttocks, then ran his tongue over the marks of his teeth and kissed the raw flesh to soothe the anguished nerves. My red eyes and runny nose were artifacts of the past as the lips migrated from the rump to the shadowed valley between the hills. He had me hanging from the bed, eyes unfocused, but staring at the ceiling while my head pointed to the floor, as my face reddened with the rush of blood, while his hands stretched my asshole open.

Then his lips teased the creased halo of muscle. Cords of spit lowered into the winking anus; my sphincter was wildly trying to grab hold of his tongue.

All this pleasure he gave me, and I have not once, until now, mentioned that magnificent cock!

"I am going to spank your breasts with this," he said, taunting me.

"Ohhhh, yes!" I would have agreed to anything at that moment.

Johnny straddled me and methodically slapped my breasts with his erection - a magnificent erection if I say so myself – it truly was. About eight inches in length, but thicker in the middle while narrow at the head, vibrators should make a mold from him, it would delight countless women and make a small fortune for the manufacturer.

With my breasts a bright red and my nipples tingling from the shock of dozens of slaps, he hopped off the bed and stood in front of me, cupping my head at back where it joins the neck while I ingested his cock. All of it - every fucking millimeter of his velvet hose. My fingers blindly searched out his balls as the last of him filled my mouth and throat. Breathing carefully through my nose, I swallowed away the gag reflex and constricted the epiglottis. My lips pursed over his springy skin. My jaws were stretched enough that the sides of my face hurt. Still I had room to swipe my tongue across the underside of the shaft.