Convert Willie to missionary style
From Create Your Own Story
Your only response to Willie is to like her nipples.
"Psst, Mr Author.. I already know he likes 'em," says Willie, sotto voce.
Ah yes. My bad, as they say. Let's try that again.
Your only response is to lick her nipples. ("Much better," sighs Willie.) There are worse things to miss out on than a superfine car that doesn't even belong to you. Will you find one of those again? Most likely. Will you find this woman beneath you again? Er, well, that too is pretty likely. Look, this is all about grabbing rosebuds, and there are some rosebuds here aching to be grabbed ("You got that right, mister," says Willie.) (Yes Willie, look, stop extemporizing, will you?) ("I know what that big word means, Mr Author.") (Excellent. Wonderful. You know, the longer you depart from script, the longer it'll take for me to get you fucked good and proper, right?) (Ah, yes. Thought so. Anyway.)
Willie's figure supine beneath you, the shadows of the cornstalks dancing across her skin, her arms reaching up, beckoning you down: lust floods your chest. This upward movement is possible because lust is a fluid which does not obey gravity. At least that is what you learned in high school, from Mrs Younglove. But then in college, Prof. Margaret Digsmen explained it by way of calling it a hydraulic phenomenon. However, there was that time with the hookers, and they all agreed that it is osmotic, soaking into the nervous fabric of our bodies.
But now is not the time for argument. "Willie sugar, let me get that off you," you say, meaning the gauzy bra-thing that she still has on where you pushed it up around her chest. You want your bodies completely naked. She lifts her arms and you both tug at the garment, Willie giggling. "It's a mite intractable, isn't it?" she says. You pause to make sure you read that right, then go on tugging and untying and promising the gauzy garment an afterlife in Vegas with lots of innovative entertainments if it will only behave. Though you're pretty sure that if you were in its place, you'd be holding on to the sweet now of Willie's tits and fuck the afterlife too.
At last her last bit of clothing sees reason. Willie continues giggling while you stand and whip off your shirt, followed by the briefs, tossing them high over your head. Completely naked. "Meow," Willie observes. You run your hands down your torso for her, over your hips' synovial joints to your thighs, and lightly back up to the thatch of hair guarding your cock, which is aiming nicely at some stalk tassles some yards away. Willie twists mildly back and forth on the earth, holding her tits and running her fingertips over the nipples.
You fall down upon her, stopping yourself with your hands just inches above her, making her jump. She takes hold of your shoulders. Then you sink down over her, spreading your body on hers like peanut butter on toast, like honey on peas, from knee to clavicle your skin buzzing against hers like bare wires, your cock rooting against her thighs and groin. Your mouth kisses along her shoulder and down her arm; then you lick and bite your way down her chest. Her hands extend over your back, tickle down your sides, trip into the cleft of your ass as you come back up to lick her throat.
You raise yourself with your arms again, as if doing a push-up, your cock rigid all the way to its base. You dip down quick and give Willie a hard fast kiss on the mouth. "Get your legs around me!" you say. Willie's eyebrows cock and knit at you, and with an expectant sound from her open mouth she throws her ankles over the backs of your thighs.
Slowly she pulls herself against you, grinding your cock against your belly, her arms flung out to the sides.
You're both breathing hard. "God, I'm going to pump you so full of come you'll float down the Mississippi to the ocean," you say.
"Need a lot of milkseed to get rid of me," growls Willie happily, "and you'll need a prick bigger than that to stop up the leak bursting my dike..."
You keep yourself up and straight like a plank and on the first try, your cockhead nestles into a kiss from her pussy. She holds herself with her ankles but only to turn her cunt upward, to let you in. You lower, working yourself in slowly, Willie gasping Mm, ah! Your lungs hold and release as you push inside her, gasp out and in and hold again.
You push the last inches hard and make Willie cry out. Then your bodies are touching their lengths again, your arms twine about each other. You start thrusting, pushing her back, sliding in the soil between the cornrows. Willie shouts and her fingers dig into your muscles and your cock slides more wetly. You reach down and remove some of the wet with your fingers and push in deep, pull her legs up to your shoulders and fuck her hard and deep, her drawn-out moans potholed by the reckless hits of your hips, until you spend what feels like ten thousand dollars down the shaft of your cock and into her sodden ferns, your body hard rigid and back arched, knuckles filled with gripped dirt, and tipping sideways, your come-groan the song of a devastated redwood, still inside her and shooting like a fountain, your thoughts oddly moving to the exhibit at the children's museum you saw as a boy, where streams of water pushed balls up to be caught on other streams, something you never tired of watching.
| Status | ||
| Health | Horny | Location: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
