Readers, I hope you've been following along since the inception of this series. If not, I respectfully implore you to go back and devour the first three chapters before embarking on this journey. Hurry, what're you waiting for!?!? Enjoy!!
***********
As Maggie stirred, beginning to recover from her brief, sex-induced slumber, John went to the dresser and returned the camcorder to its original position. Almost as an afterthought, however, he flicked open the compartment that held the cassette tape and removed it before putting the camera back. Maggie groaned a bit more animatedly, and John looked around for a safe harbor to stash the small cassettes.
It wasn't as if he had any pockets at the moment. He reached down beneath the bed and placed the tape on the floor beneath the mattress, the covers and spreads still askew form the frantic sexual aerobic session that had just transpired. Just in time.
Maggie sleepily cocked one eye open and brushed the hair cascading down her forehead. John had never seen Maggie's hair in any condition other than perfectly pristine. Never does a woman look so sexy when she has just been thoroughly fucked, he thought to himself.
Maggie reached out for John and sought his hand for comfort. She struggled to open both eyes and gazed at him sleepily, trying to regain her bearings. "Jesus, I must've had a dream that I had the best sex of my life and fainted," she grinned.
"Hmmm, that's funny, I had a dream myself that my cock nearly fell off from overuse." John played along, hugging Maggie to his chest, holding her tenderly, despite his apprehension about the discovery of the camera. The fact that it was out in the open obviously meant that Maggie wasn't trying to conceal anything, but still, he wondered about her intentions. But that was a question for later.
There was still some unfinished business to attend to, as his cock stirred again, almost impossibly so. Just the mere sensation of her fabulous body against his own brought his member twitching menacingly back to life.
Maggie cocooned herself inside of John's strong arms. "So, how long was I out?"
John glanced at his wrist, as if feigning to look at a watch. "No more than a couple of days. It's Sunday, I've been watching football."
Maggie punched his ribs playfully. "Well, then, you've had plenty of time to recover, you should be ready to go again." She looked around the room, her brow furrowing. "So, where is it?"
John felt an immediate pang of panic rising in his chest. How could she have known? He played dumb, though. "Where's what?"
Maggie reached down between John's legs and caressed his slowly rising cock. "Aaaah, there it is! My hard cock! I thought it left me there for a minute. Why isn't it inside me again?" Maggie leaned up and kissed John deeply, stroking his cock more urgently, and bringing his free hand down to cup her still sopping pussy. "I need to suck it again, don't I? Puh-leeze?"
"That's a silly question, but Ok, since you finally asked so politely." John climbed off of the edge of the bed and stood at the base. While doing so, he eased his toes underneath the mattress, and kicked the tape a little bit further under the bed.
Maggie crawled on her hands and knees towards him, a ravenous feline again on the prowl for hard dick. She stopped inches away from his cock and stared directly at it, mesmerized by its length, desperately wanting to have this magnificent penis penetrate all of her holes. For now, however, her mouth was the immediate target.
She grabbed John's buttocks with both hands and pulled him roughly into her. "Fuck my mouth, lover, fuck me, fuck my mouth."
She swallowed about five inches of John's girth whole in one dramatic gulp, testing her gag reflex to the limit, but not releasing her grip, except to extricate his cock from the oral lock of her throat to again encourage him. "Fuck my mouth. I want to lick your balls."
Maggie rolled over on her back and crawled directly underneath John's large sac. As her hands reached up to stroke John's member from an upside-down position, she popped one of John's testicles between her lips and sucked hard. She started a rhythm by alternating sucking on his balls, licking the ultra-sensitive place on the base of his pubic bone, just above his anus, and pulled on his cock harder and harder. She loved the sensation of again bringing John to his full length and thick ness.
She loved the feeling of complete seduction and power over a man. She hadn't let herself express her sexuality in such wanton and uninhibited displays of lust in her entire life, until very recently, and she knew instinctively that she and John were just scratching the apex of many sexual adventures to come. For that, she silently thanked her friend Charlotte for encouraging her to indulge herself in such pursuits of pleasure.
While Maggie continually sucked and grabbed and licked and stroked John's now fully turgid manhood, she couldn't help but to ponder Charlotte's motivations for being so interested in watching a videotape of John's and Maggie's explosive lovemaking. No, Maggie corrected herself just as quickly. Fucking was what this was. This was not lovemaking. This was fucking. Sport-fucking, perhaps, but just great fucking.
When you're upside down beneath a man's balls and starting to lick the rim of his asshole, lovemaking was not the most accurate verb, she correctly decided. "But I'll bet this'll look incredible on tape," she mused.