SECRETS OF AN ODALISQUE - Cupp & Isolde

At last he was completely naked, and stiff enough to knock down a steel door with his pecker. Cupp's eyes traveled to Isolde's golden, inviting triangle érotique. "Come here," he beckoned from his seat on the bed. "Take my prick -- it's yours."

She approached and knelt at his feet. Her hands on his knees, she took his long, fat member in her narrow mouth slowly, serenely. When he shoved in to the hilt with a sudden thrust, it seemed almost too much for her, but she opened her small orifice wide to swallow him whole down to his root. She let him slide partly out again to run her artful young tongue over the tip of him, then applied herself to serious sucking of his shaft. Covering it with her fingers as if it were a bud of infinite delicacy, she pressed the sides of him with the inside of her silky mouth and licked away, slowly, silently, while he watched in fascination.

When her pumping became vigorous and her mane of taffy hair hid the action from view, Cupp pulled her tresses away with an impatient yank in order to watch once again the marvel that was taking place in his lap. He felt himself, incredible as it seemed, growing even harder, ever larger, expanding further as once again she received him far down into her oral cavity.

Now came a gentle brushing with her lips, and then she offered deep prolonged sucking. He groaned a long sigh of pleasure, ecstatic at the thrill of his own magnificent stiffness.

Isolde, coming up for air, licked her lips. With considerable esprit, she bounced on top of him. "Ja, ja," she was exclaiming in approval.

She drew his tongue between her teeth and savored it like a candy bar. God, his cock was huge. Cupp, her breasts in his hands, holding them reverently, now bent to move his lips to the top of her nipples, brushing them with his tongue to wet them, circling their pinkish orbs repeatedly in his gently rotating fingers.

Isolde drew her stomach in and out and was panting, "Ach, ja, ja," as his lips pinked her breasts again.

She ran her hand up and down his chest, smiling as he leaned in to suckle her neck, to nip her inviting ears. Then his hand traveled to her bush, so pale, so blonde and vulnerable, where his fingers stroked and wound themselves in the curlicues of hair until, in a sudden, impulsive and inspired muff dive, his tongue moved to partake of the creamy white froth that had congealed at the inviting crevice of her delicious sex. He licked and nibbled at the small clit that was distended and inflamed from arousal and from expectation of what lay ahead.

Her thighs were moist with flowing juices that literally poured out of her trembling, quivering cunt. Cupp closed his eyes to better permit his tongue to explore her mysterious, cavernous depths, until his desire could tolerate no further foreplay.

"Open your legs," he commanded hoarsely, and stuffed his throbbing organ into the pocket of her wetness.

He mounted her, offering her the steady pressure of his enormous rod, feeling her welcome him as he filled her, his hands simultaneously exploring the delights of her torso, caressing and stroking her erect nipples, inviting them to partake of yet deeper desire. Mixtures of sweat and secretions of hot juices were pouring from the secret recesses of her cunt and swelling buttocks, as she opened her mouth wider and clung to him tighter, and their movements grew more insistent, demanding the full pleasure they both craved and strove toward.

"Ja, ja," she kept hissing.

He directed her body with his hands, watching her as she alternately raised and lowered her haunches. She was on top now, slithering on him, sliding on his powerful organ. He wanted to take possession of her entirely, and as he felt the fever of satyriasis overtake him, he wound around her, swiveling in her puss, totally engulfed with the lascivious joys of the corruption of flesh, shivering at the thought of her velvet succulence and how his prick was just made for this kind of fucking.

Now he was giving her a slow tease. She was totally oozing, dripping with the wetness of pleasure, just begging for it, as his prick bulged inside her, his joy stick covered with her cunt juice. As the burgeoning urgency increased, he became dizzy from the intoxicating animal smells, mounting now into a frenzy from the churning and knocking and thumping, his peter thrusting into ever wilder, rising strokes, his blood growing denser, the suction between them increasing. The cheapness, the tawdriness was a delight beyond any he had known.

Her hips circled faster, her body arching ever upwards, seeking for him to penetrate her deeper, as she shoved her buttocks toward him hard and cried, "Gib mir! Gib mir!"

Isolde started to shake as she rose toward a thundering climax, buckling her loins like a Valkyrie atop her steed.

"Tell me you like my cock ... Say it! Say, 'Cupp, I love your fucking cock!'" his voice resounded in her ear.

"Ja, ja!"

As the tumult mounted and the torrential surge within him reached an apex, he spurted a yard of come into the slippery channel between her legs, releasing at the same time a whoop of supreme and glorious exultation as his body culminated its desire and his own Isolde brought him to the outer limits. Isolde, Isolde ...

Spent, Cupp fell back on the bed, her name on his lips. Isolde, Isolde. Christ...

For damned sure, Tristan never had it so good.