Veronique's slender hand grasped the lengthening shaft of my twelve-inch cock. Her enormous light-brown tits hung like huge melons from her petite chest, their hardening nipples like jube-jubes atop enormous puddings. Although fake, they looked surprisingly natural from most angles. She looked up into my eyes as she opened wide her plump, glossy, thickly cherry-red-lipstick'd lips, and enveloped the head of my cock with them. She sucked my cock hard, bringing it to full size in just one slow, hard, wet suck. She held a twelve-inch long, two-inches-in-diameter, bat of flesh in her 18-year-old hands.
"Oh yeah, Baby! Suck it," I whispered, relishing the amazing sensations of the teen-angel's hot mouth on my fuck-rod.
Veronique knew how to suck cock, too. And fuck, for that matter. She understood back-arch. She had that delicious pelvic control which would allow her to fuck a cock in cowgirl, her ass a blur, while keeping the rest of her body still. She knew how to relax her asshole. She knew that her lips looked ten times better relaxed and fully on display when she slid her mouth back and forth along a shaft when sucking (and not pulled into her mouth like some girls do.) Her pussy was as wet as a tube of KY, as soft as velvet, as tight as she chose to squeeze it closed, yet as tough as leather from years of professional fucking; she never got sore. She knew well how to wrap her set of lubed-up boobs around a cock and slide them back and forth along its length, or how to be still and simply hold them together while the cock fucked their lubed-up cleavage. She had that Marilyn-Monroe understanding of seduction: how to be confident, submissive, teasing, yet delivering. She was any man's Dreamgirl to be sure, and I loved her. This I thought about as I watched her slide her relaxed lips up and down the length of my erect cock, sucking me hard. I liked a neat and tidy blowjob- none of that 'stringers' nonsense which disgusted me- and she knew it, and delivered perfectly what she knew I wanted. Every time. What a babe. The blowjob was sheer bliss, as usual.
After a time, reluctantly but calling upon self-discipline, I had to interrupt, "That feels so fucking amazing, Babe, but I have to go train now."
Sliding her mouth off of my rock-hard fuck-stick she asked, "Train how?"
"I've got that fight South America in just a few days, remember? I wanna be in top shape for it."
"OK Paul. You be sure and tell me later whenever you want to slide that big cock of yours up inside one of my hot, wet, tight little holes though, OK?"
Veronique also knew how to talk dirty, just the way I like it, too. She knew all of my preferences. I got off on the pure visceral aesthetics of sex, no S&M or macho degradation which I found unhealthy and disgusting. Though I guess I had my fetishes, too, like anybody.
"I'll just come up behind you when you're talking to one of your girlfriends on the phone, spread your ass open, and slide my cock up your pussy," I teased obscenely.
Veronique giggled. "I'll be wet and waiting!"
"You know I don't deserve you," I added.
"I know, Paul. Kiss me and go throw some leather."
We kissed, not long but passionately. Veronique's robe flew up behind her as she left the room. My own did the same as I headed to one of my bedrooms to get ready for my daily boxing training.