A Taste Of It Read online

  A Taste Of It

  by Karla Francis

  ### BEE-ZZ-60490 ###

  Canada, Interlude Press. 0000. (ISBN: 1895551749)

  SOMEONE WAS SUCKING MARLA

  He heard strange noises in the bedroom of his apartment. Out of anger at him, if nothing else, the girls had probably hired some horny stranger from the streets. The noises did sound familiar. He knew how very capable Susan was of vengeance... and how horny she could be, as well.

  He hoped the unwelcome male visitor was small enough to be thrown out.

  He moved closer and pushed one eye past the edge of the partially opened door. The light was on, dim but sufficient enough to reveal the jumble of bodies on his bed.

  Blackburn blinked in astonishment. Then, slowly, he smiled. Leaning against the wall he watched.

  Marla was on her back, long legs spread, knees elevated. Her face was tossing from side to side, eyes narrowed and lips slacked with passion. Susan was kneeling between her thighs! He could hear Marla moaning. He could also hear the distinct sound of lapping, as Susan's tongue fed hungrily at Marla's silky slit.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Marfa Collins was surprised to find that the hotel was shabby and rather sordid and in an unfashionable district of London. When she'd allowed herself to be picked up by the stud she'd met in the bar and agreed to go back to his hotel for drinks, she had certainly expected something better. She didn't care, really, as long as he was hung like a donkey, and could screw all night. Marla was no snob when it came to getting laid. It was just that the man didn't look or act the type to have stayed at such a rundown flea bag sort of establishment. He was handsome and well dressed and glib and seemed to have plenty of money. Thus, when the taxi let them out in front of this hotel, she was bemused. Her first thought was that the man must have been ashamed to take her to his actual lodgings or, possibly, was a married man who didn't really stay at this hotel but chose it at random. But neither of those ideas troubled her, either. Truth be known, Marla found it sort of an exciting prospect to get fucked in squalid circumstances; the setting added a certain thrill, a charm of degradation new to her. She was willing to experiment, Marla was. In fact, this whole evening had been a bit of an experiment. Her husband had gone to Paris on business and Marla, bored at home, had gone to The West End, saw a film and then stopped at a cocktail lounge. She hadn't exactly intended to get picked up and certainly hadn't been looking for a man, but it hadn't really surprised her, either. Those things, she knew, happened. Although not strictly faithful to her husband, neither was she particularly promiscuous. There had been two or three dirty affairs, country weekend sort of things, never serious and always before with men she knew well. This was the first time she'd decided to fuck a total stranger and she was feeling rather deliciously wet and horny.

  The man Bill Gibbs, he said his name was, had a nice bulge of cock in his well-tailored trousers. Marla knew he might not have been truthful, if he were married, just as she had refused to tell him her last name. He held the hotel door open for her and followed her into the narrow entrance. He didn't seem at all ashamed of the place; seemed a very self-assured fellow.

  "Do you really live here?" she asked.

  He raised his eyebrows and smiled. He had very black, bushy brows and an easy grin.

  "When I'm in town," he said.

  Marla shrugged. She walked down the hallway ahead of Gibbs and he stopped at the desk for his key. Well, at least he does have a room here, she thought, when she heard the man behind the desk greet him. The man handed the key across, smiling lewdly and glancing at Marla, obviously used to having his tenants entertain. The desk clerk was bald but had parted his scant remaining hair far down on one side and swept the long strands all the way over the top in futile vanity. Marla thought he was a perfect desk clerk for such a place; could have been the template from which such men are stamped. Gibbs said something which she didn't hear, then followed her down the hall. There was no lift and they had to walk up two flights of narrow, badly lighted stairs. Marla, going up first, could feel Gibb's gaze on her well-rounded ass and, grinning to herself, let that package of goodies swing in a slow, sensual arc.

  She felt delightfully wanton, and was eager for the taste and feel of solid prick.

  AS Gibbs unlocked the door to his room, he said, "Do you make a habit of this?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You know... getting picked up by strange men."

  "Certainly not," she replied, flushing slightly. But he was grinning and she couldn't feel really angry at such a question. He obviously meant no insult; simply wondered and saw no harm in asking.

  "I'm not a tramp, you know," she said.

  "Why, sure," he said, ushering her into the room. It was a small chamber with most of the space taken up by the bed and Marla flushed again at this. Then, because she was embarrassed by her own embarrassment, she walked over and sat down on that bed. Gibbs poured them each a glass of Scotch from a bottle on the dresser. There was no ice and no mix but Marla didn't complain. The whisky was, after all, no more than an excuse; a ploy. She took a sip. Gibb sat beside her.

  "Won't your husband wonder where you are?"

  "Now, how do you know I'm married?"

  "Why, you're too beautiful to be single. Anyway, you're wearing a wedding ring."

  "Oh, yes. Well, that proves I didn't intend to get picked up, anyway."

  She glanced at her gold wedding band and, for the first time, felt a little ashamed at what she was doing. She loved Geoffrey, her husband, and certainly wouldn't have wanted to hurt him or to endanger their marriage. But other than that, she saw no harm in the odd transgression, drawing a line between love and lust and not really feeling that a sexual encounter was true infidelity. It was, she thought, rather like playing a set of tennis or a round of gold with another man, just a healthy pastime.

  She said. "My husband is out of town. I'm not in the habit of going to hotels with men, especially men I've just met, and I'm not sure why I came here with you, but I don't expect there's much harm in it."

  "You mean this is the first time you've... er... cheated on him?"

  "Well, not quite," she said, honestly. "But it's the first time with a stranger, which seems somehow different. Not more sinful, you know, just different."

  "Ummmm," he said, and downed his whisky. He took a pack of cigarettes out and started to offer her one, then changed his mind and put the box back in his pocket. He'd apparently decided that there had been sufficient camouflage and that it was time to get down to the business at hand. That suited Marla, for she saw more infidelity in the conversation than in the impending act.

  He stroked her shoulder.

  Marla shivered slightly.

  "We'd better get undressed," she said.

  Gibbs blinked at her directness.

  "Well, it seems rather silly to make you go through all the nonsense of seducing me, when that's obviously why we're both here, doesn't it?"

  "What a wonderful girl," he said.

  Marla laughed and got up; began undressing with practical, no nonsense movements. Gibbs lay back on the bed, watching her and admiring her emerging body. She had a very good body, slender and firm, with smallish, high breasts and lithe hips and a marvelous, pert bottom. Her legs were long and her waist was narrow. Gibbs, being something of a racing man, decided she was built for a distance rather than a sprint. But well bred, too. Her features were fine, her blonde hair expensively done, her voice cultured. She stripped completely and then stared at him.

  "Well?" she asked. He nodded and got up; began undressing. Marla lay down on the bed, one knee slightly raised, waiting; watching him as he'd watched her. He was bigger than he looked in his clothing, a hard, muscular fellow with dark hair matted on his ches
t. When he had taken his garments off, dropping them haphazardly on the floor, he lay down beside her.

  Marla finished her whiskey in one swallow.

  Gibbs placed his broad, calloused hand on her gently mounded belly and began stroking with a circular motion. She lay still, waiting for him; waiting for her own body to become aroused by his caress and thankful that he wasn't the impatient type that jumped on a girl immediately. His hand moved up slowly and he cupped her small, firm breast.

  "Nice," he whispered.

  "Ummmm. Nice."

  Her nipple rose, stiffening against his palm and he arched his wrist and began fingering the taut little bud, flicking it with his index finger and then rolling it slowly between fingers and thumb, causing it to expand and tingle.

  Leaning over, he flicked his tongue across the sensitive little knob and Marla shifted, purring like a cat; arched her back, offered her tits to his mouth. He began sucking on her nipples, shifting back and forth from one to the other; greedily mouthing the rigid flesh.

  Marla sighed with deep pleasure and, reaching down, took the thickness of his cock in her hand. She folded her fingers around the shaft and squeezed gently. He wasn't yet fully erect, but as soon as she touched him his organ began to grow, lengthening and fattening. It made Marla very excited to feel his cock expand in her hand; to tactically know the effect she had upon his body. She tilted her head so that she could look down and watch his prick surge to readiness. He was big, she saw. She was glad he was big. No matter what they said about technique being all-important, Marla had always found that a big cock was greatly preferable. She loved to feel her loins stuffed brimful of hot cock-meat.

  Her hand moved up and down, frigging him slowly, and she watched the big purple wedge of his knob come flaring from her grasp and saw the ventral vein darken and begin to throb. She slowed her hand, then, not wanting to make him come that way; not the first time. She enjoyed jerking a man off, taking a fascinated pleasure in watching his load spurt out under the pressure of her pumping hand, but she didn't know this man well enough to predict his potency and, if he turned out to be a one time guy, she didn't want to waste his ejaculation outside her body.

  Gibbs, still sucking her tits, let his hand glide down her belly and cupped her vulva.

  Marla squealed with soft delight.

  Her cunt was already open and damp and, at the first touch of his hand, she felt her loins melt. His blunt fingers stirred gently through her parted pussy lips while the heel of his hand brushed against her clitoris. That lively little love bud began to swell and pulsate. Marla moved her hips and humped her belly, rubbing her sodden crotch against his caressing hand with abandon. Gibbs murmured indistinctly, the words muffled against her tits. He tilted his hand and slowly stuffed two fingers up her wet hole, slipping them in and out with a fucking motion and turning them from side to side as they glided up her snug slit.

  "You could make me come that way," she whispered.

  "Shall I?"

  She was tempted and hesitated, then said, "No. Later, maybe, if you like. Not the first time." And she gave his swollen dick a long, smooth stroke.

  Gibbs responded in kind, shoveling three stiff fingers up her steaming hole and, at the same time, using his thumb like a brush against her tingling clit. Marla moaned and threw her head back, eyes rolling wildly and mouth parting with trembling lips. The nimble pink tip of her tongue glided across her lower lip and her golden hair fell in a full cascade across the pillow, framing her lust-contorted countenance like an unholy halo. She was racked by a spasm of passion, so that her whole firm-fleshed body seemed to shiver and melt.

  Grunting, Gibbs shoved his digits up her flooded gash another time.

  Her knees rose and her thighs parted as she worked her pliable loins against his manual messenger. Gibbs smiled at her passion, but then, as she gave his dick another loving pull, his smile became a grimace of lust and his big body quivered as much as hers. He rolled closer, so that his prick, still firmly clasped in her hand, was jutting out over her shifting belly. The purple knob flared mightily, cleft opening in a dark oval. Marla pumped him slowly and he ran his fingertips tantalizingly along the wet slit of her pussy, stroking the unfurled labia.

  She pressed his cock down, so that it lay on her belly, the hard rod indenting her smooth flesh. Holding him tightly to herself, she used her thumb to rub the ultra-sensitive area just below the glans, causing the head to swell even more. She fingered that bulging slab of dark, blood-gorged meat and a slimy droplet of preliminary fluid oozed from the parted cleft and, running down the knob, spread stickily onto her belly. "Ooooh," she gasped, feeling his hot juice on her hot flesh, her whole form going rigid.

  "We'd... better... not... wait..." she panted.

  Gibbs was agreeable to that. His bollocks were swollen like inflated peaches and he knew that he would be unable to delay his climax very long, where she to continue that fingering of glans and vein.

  Heaving up, he mounted her.

  Marla spread her thighs and heaved her vulva up, welcoming him to her loins. Still holding his dick, she pushed it down between her legs like a lever over the double fulcrum of their bodies; fitting the throbbing knob against her quivering gash. Gibbs braced himself on hands and knees and pushed forward. Her cunt was well-prepared for his thrust, and the big cock head slipped easily past her cunt lips. Then he paused, savouring the delights of this initial and partial penetration; holding himself steady with just the tip of his dick inside her, while she began working the mysterious muscles of her pussy. Her snatch gripped and clutched at his knob like a moist hand, pulling at him; urging him further and deeper into her smoking crevice.

  He shoved another inch up her.

  His tool twitched and struggled, with a will of its own, seeking full penetration. Gibbs shook as he fought to contain the urge, like a man holding a very powerful dog on a leash a phallic leash and a phallic dog, indeed, seeking to rush headlong into the snug kennel of her belly. And, like a ravenous bitch, her snatch urged and invited him, the soft folds pulling and clamping over this angry bone.

  She had released his cock now, finally, and her hands went around his haunches and her belly surged upwards, slapping stickily against his own.

  "Give it to me!" she whimpered.

  His broad hand slipped under her ass and he lifted her loins higher, but still he waited.

  "Please... give it all to me..." she pleaded, the vacuum of her womb abhorring itself by its very nature. "Put it all up me, yes! Give me that big, hard cock!"

  He wanton words acted upon him like a magnet upon his iron dick, more powerful a compulsion than even his own burning need. Growling, wolf like, he braced his knees and, with a savage jolt, ran the full length of his potent rod up her pussy.

  "Oh!" she cried.

  Then: "Ohhhh, yes!"

  He was buried to the roots, his hot sword up to the hilt in her steaming scabbard and his bloated balls jammed tightly against her uplifted ass.

  They vibrated together in sympathetic wave lengths.

  Gibbs held that fullest, deepest penetration for long, delirious moments of bliss, marveling at the wonderful sensation of having his dick stuffed all the way up her clutching sheath, while her cunt began to work eagerly on his shaft. Her steaming hole tightened and clamped around him, adjusting its pliable circumference to his massive wand, so that her flesh contoured and outlined and delineated every throbbing millimetre of his rod, pulling and gripping and fitting snugly to the welcome intruder.

  Marla stared down between their bodies, seeing his hairy loins bracketed by her pale thighs and feeling his prick burrowing within her, so big that she half expected to see a furrow ploughed up along the mound of her belly, like a mole tunneling through a garden; so hot that she thought her inner flesh must be melting. His cock head was like a huge ball of molten steel, his rod like a heated crowbar wedging into the depths of her being.

  Her eyes lifted and she stared at his face in wonderment and awe, completely ab
andoned to the sensations of lust.

  His lips drew back from his teeth in the ivory geometries of a grimace, and his broad, hard hands tightened beneath her ass.

  "Fuck me," she whispered.

  Her hips rotated, adding physical impulse to her vocal demand, and her stuffed cunt sucked longingly upon his buried stalk.

  Gibbs began to fuck her.

  Slowly he drew back, until only the knob of his dork remained encased in her slot, paused for a taunting instant, and just as slowly fed the full length to her again. He repeated the process, his reciprocating piston delving smoothly into her combustible chamber, slowly turning the flywheel of fervid need through the lowest gear. With lazy, underslung strokes, his belly dipping and his stalk paralleling the surface of the bed, he put the meat to her with delicious slowness.

  But Marla's need had gone beyond the slow, preliminary thrusts of the act of love and, whimpering, she urged him to greater effort and speed.