THE THIRD DAY
She was back the next day, waiting for me in the parking lot. This time, I popped the trunk without being asked.
"So how did your date go?" I asked.
"You mean, did we fuck?" she asked in a low voice.
"I mean, how did it go? I don't care whether you fucked, I care about whether you enjoyed yourself."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I did enjoy it, for a while, and yes, we fucked. That part didn't go so good. I'll tell you about it on the beach, if you're interested. Let's go. I'm horny as hell now."
"Just at the sight of me? We haven't even kissed."
She kissed me. "That's only made it worse! Actually, I was getting off on the motorcycle ride. I usually don't, but I almost came just from the motor. That bike's a damned expensive vibrator, but it works."
We made our way to the nude beach, where we stripped again. She wasn't kidding about being horny; her panties were soaked with her cum. "C'mon," she said as I doffed my shorts and shirt. "I don't want people on this beach to see me with my pussy so wet."
When we got to our usual space on the "private" beach, she spread out her towel and we oiled each other up. There was none of the coyness she'd showed yesterday. Once our backs were oiled, rolled me onto my back and went straight for my dick. It was hard right away, and she simply sat down on it, forcing it into her. God, she was wet! As she bounced down on top of me, she was rubbing her clit. I watched her breasts bounce as she bounced. I was doing everything I could to slow my orgasm, but nothing was working, and I groaned, "Liz. I've gotta cum." Just then, she came, and her juices trickled down my balls onto the towel. I released my load into her, but I doubt that she even felt it. She was trembling, her eyes were closed, and she was rubbing her tits as if feeling them for the first time. Then she just sort of flopped down on me, putting her full weight on my chest, and I felt her cunt muscles relax, then slowly tense, and then relax again, over and over, as though she was milking my cock to get all the jism out. I felt it slip out of her, and then she gave a long, low laugh.
"God, that was good!" she said. "I needed that!"
"I'm sorry I couldn't last longer, Liz. I was doing everything I could to stall. Thinking about garbage. Thinking about work. Thinking about bills. Nothing helped."
"Don't worry. It was just what I wanted."
"Better than yesterday?"
"Not better. Different, though. It was like thirst."
"How so?"
"Well, when you're really thirsty, you know, you just want water and lots of it. That's what today was. Yesterday, it was wine, not water. I didn't want to drink it so fast. I wanted to sip it, and savor it, discover its overtones and aftertastes."
"So what was your fuck last night? Wine or water?"
"Flat Seven-Up!" she snorted. "We went to my place after dinner. I wanted him to wear a condom, but he bitched about it. He swore he was clean, but I didn't believe him, so I insisted. Anyway, we fucked, and he was like 'Let me take it off. Let me really feel you,' and like that. I was almost cumming when he came; I was that close! And when he took the rubber off, I could see a sore on the underside of his dick. 'What's that?' I said, and he said it was nothing, it was something he always had. That sonofabitch had herpes, or worse, and he wouldn't tell me!"
"And that tore it for you?"
"It sure killed the mood. And then, he had the nerve to ask me if his cock was the best I'd ever had. I said, 'I had a better cock than that just a few hours ago,' and I told him about our fucking on the beach. He hit the roof, got all possesive, told me that he expected me to be faithful to him. After one fuck! I told him to get out, so he did."
She paused, and then continued. "I really needed a climax, but not with him. I got out the old rabbit and got off, but I kept thinking about how different it would have been with you."