When Tony arrived at her home that evening, Allison was in a funny mood, she told him that she resented bitterly the fact that her future husband was having a stag night, and had invited all his friends, and she would be at home all on her own that evening. Tony had always felt that she was a bit lukewarm about marrying his Lordship, and now he could see how easily such a domineering father, could have put a lot of pressure on his daughter to marry a person of such wealth and influence. Her mood was completely out of character with the Allison that he knew so well.

What was irking Allison that evening, was that one of her future husbands friends with a mouth as big as a farm gate, had let it slip about the stag party arrangements. She was pretty sure, from what the idiot had hinted, that her future husband would not be sleeping on his own, following his stag night. So the more she thought about it, the more she became irritated and angry, and so she had decided that tonight on the eve of her wedding she was going to have some company of her own choice, and so she had invited Tony to spend the evening with her. Her father had forbidden her to have any sort of hen party of any kind. So in one way this was a form of rebellion on Allison’s part

She had greeted him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. She barely spoke as she led Tony by the hand to her large bedroom. They lay together on the bed at first, just talking, and listening to records, and drinking some German wine, both of them remaining fully dressed, and not in any way touching one another. Tony himself did not expect anything, other than a normal social evening to keep Allison company. But after a while all Allison’s pent-up worries about her forthcoming marriage came to the fore, and she started talking.

Allison had over the past few weeks grown rather fond of Tony, and in conversation, one or two of her girl acquaintances, had suggested in passing, that Tony, or someone like him would make a better husband, than the nearly ancient lecherous Lord Rooker. This had over time put the idea into her head, and the longer she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that she might be making a big mistake. She was still a virgin, and that was something she had decided that she wanted Tony to change for her. Tonight she had planned to seduce Tony, but she was not quite sure how to go about it. Then after a few glasses of wine which helped her to get up her courage, she turned to Tony and said “Kiss me properly please Tony”

Tony now under the influence of the wine, also had lost his few inhibitions, and dutifully leaned over, and took her in his arms, it was then that not for the first time, he realised just how beautiful she was, but the fact that she was getting married, had always put him off attempting anything with her.

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She gripped tightly to that bar, her legs shivering from the pure pleasure of having my tongue caressing her ass. She loved it. When I had first met her, I had never made love to a woman that way before. It just never crossed my mind. And when she asked me to do it the first time, I was a little apprehensive. But now I think I like it more than even she does.

She leaned back to me and I wrapped my arms around her, slowly massaging her soft slit with my fingertips as I gingerly circled that tight pucker, pushing in slowly to widen that pink little muscle. Just the slightest touch drove my girlfriend crazy. And if she cried out any louder, I would swear the neighbors would easily hear us.

But that was not everything she wanted. I stood back to my feet and pressed by hard cock against the crack of her impossibly tight ass. The water rushed over us, cleaning off nay sweat that had been left behind in the heat of passion. The water ran down our bodies as I kneaded the head of my manhood against that little pucker of her hole.

All Tracy could manage was to hold on. Her body nearly hung from the bar as she leaned back onto my cock. But I could not just push in. I took the soap from the shelf and lathered my hard cock up as I pushed into her pink knot with one soap-lubricated fingertip. I was much bigger than my tongue or my finger. She needed to be prepared carefully. I pulled gently around that tight muscle as she relaxed.

When I finally eased my cock slowly into her, she let out a long scream of her arousal. She slammed back, impaling me completely inside her and putting pressure on her pussy’s depths.

I reached around her body, the waters rushing off any excess soap that had been there. Once again, my fingertips found home at the sweet depths of her pussy.

Tracy was forced to let go of the bar and press her chest and breast to the wall of the shower. She stood up straight with me imbedded inside her. She had no escape now. I was not going to let her go until she got the treat that she so wanted.

I held her tightly against the cool tiles with the warm waters basting over us. My cock was slowly gyrating within the tight walls of her ass. I slowly thrust myself into her body as I slid my fingers inside her dripping wet sex. And that has nothing to do with the water.

When she came, I thought she was going to tear the tiles of the bathroom right off. She once again grabbed at the washcloth bar attached to the wall. She leaned back, the spray of the shower hitting her right in the face and rolling down over her hardened nipples and down to quench the burning fires within her.

In turn, I held her tightly around the waist and pumped my seed into her. I almost lost my balance and fell to the floor I came so hard that night. When at least, the sweet sensations of our dueling orgasms started to subside, we both lay down in the waters of the bathtub with my half hardened cock still held inside her. It would be a little while before I could regain my breath for round two. But if I had anything to do with this whole scenario, this was not stopping until we passed out in the tub.

Her fingernails scratch my erection as she pushes past it and penetrates her other tunnel herself. Against my thumb I feel her fingers. I count them — two, perhaps three. With the fingers of my free hand I stroke her puckers.

Her fingers inside her are moving faster. There are now at least three. They arch as she finds her honey spot. She presses hard against my thigh as she angles her other hand onto her clit.

I shift my leg.

Perhaps she misinterprets. Her hands still in and against her, she sits up. The angle is wrong for my hand and my thumb slips out of her. I spread her haunches and lift her off my lap. My cock slides along her crack, catches for an instant at her opening then bounces against my stomach. I press the head of it back against her asshole and savour the feel of her tightness.

Almost before I am ready for more she slips lower onto me. Her sphincter is tight around my cock head. I want her further onto me, her tightness behind my glans, but I don’t want to hurt her. My hands, still against her buttocks, tremor. Her dark skin has grown crimson. I hold my breath.

She takes me further, my hair against her skin. I feel the softness within her slip against my cock. Her hands, working her cunt and clit, jostle my balls. Then, right inside her, I come.

As I soften she keeps me within her. It is my favourite moment as my cock still feels her fucking herself and she arches back in orgasm.

The feel of her skin is always other than I expect. I anticipate the cold, hard smoothness of stone but find the warm, textured compliance of felt. When, I wonder, does the smoothness of a baby’s backside develop such character. Spass down whispers against my fingers.

With just my finger tips, I slowly stroke to the fold across the head of each leg. I watch the depressions my motions makes well across her surfaces. My passages are diverted by her folds. My hands slip inwards to the terminus of her crack.

The edges of my index fingers fit within her creases. They belong there. I fold my thumbs across my palms and heft her weight.

She is tense to begin, still shy after so long together. As she relaxes her buttocks flow onto my hands. They fill them as well as any breasts.

I look along her back. Her haunches are like curved horizons. Above their crests I just see the ridges of her scapula. Lost between them is the hollowed nape of her neck. In some other life, I think, it is there that wings would have sprouted.

I slide my hands along the boundaries of her buttocks to her hips. I pull her butt towards myself and curl against it. She is moist and warm against my chest. I reach forward and rest my hands upon her shoulders. I slide my fingers along the line of her throat to her collar blades. I begin to massage her shoulders.

She arches like a cat, her breasts against my legs, her belly catching my cock. She can take this for hours. As she relaxes her backside softens against my chest, parting, spreading.

My joints ache. I start to slide my hands along her back. She moans a complaint. I make myself massage some more.

The skin of the small of her back is a tone darker than higher up. It is almost furred. With difficulty I bend enough to kiss her there. My dick twitches renewed erection against the fold of her stomach. I push against her bottom and her tits slide to my ankles. Between her thighs I see the fat curves of her pussy.

Between her knees I ease my legs and free my balls.

I place the flats of my palms upon her haunches with my fingers spread. So, so slowly I trace opposing circles. The cleft before me opens and closes with my motion. I glimpse the dark red-brown skin deep within and the pucker of her asshole. I know that she feels her pose is less than beautiful. I feel privileged that she takes it for me. I take my time and admire.

Her weight grows heavier on my legs. Her fingers appear between her legs and spread her sex. The rose within is wet and engorged. I drizzle oil onto the top of the ass crack. I hold her cheeks apart and watch her dark skin glisten as the oil runs across it. The drips onto my cock. She takes hold of me and pulls my cock head against her clit. As she rubs herself against me I will myself not to come.

Her asshole winks it’s readiness. I slip my thumb into her. It goes in more easily than I expect, until my palm is hard against her buttock. Inside she is hot and velvety and cavernous….

He levers me forward and up. My face and chest are still upon the bed. His thumb enters me. His hand is now against my haunch. His other hand presses against my other buttock and its thumb, too, finds its way into me. He pulls me apart.

I know he is studying my derriere although, in my present position, it feels less than elegant. Suddenly I realize he can see my pussy and am, sillily, embarrassed. I push my hand between my legs and cover myself. As I do my hand brushes his cock. It is heavy with blood.

He bends forward and kisses my arse, the curve of each buttock and then the hole itself. His ministrations tickle. He runs his tongue along the rim of my opening. His spittle is slick as he readies me and then he enters me with his tongue.

At first I feel invaded and must make myself relax. Then he is too small and I press back against his face. His tongue abandons my want and then the head of his erection is between my buttocks. He guides it to my opening.

I push against him tentatively. I need to rotate my hips, bettering the angle. I wonder if his cock can possibly pass my stinging flesh when suddenly it is through. My sphincter tightens behind his glands and I feel a surge of satisfaction — as if I have captured him. I reach past my legs and take hold of his balls. I am in control.

He dribbles spit into my crack and along his shaft. I pull him slowly into me until his legs are against me. He wants to move quicker but I don’t let him. As he — we — pull out he leaves an emptiness. When he returns he fills my arse and belly and head.

Too soon he collapses against my back. I struggle to support his weight and keep my position. In my hand his balls contract and then I feel the surge of his jet along his length and into me. I am certain that I can feel it colliding against the limits of my space as we roll, still joined, onto our sides.

His thumbs avoid the crown of my spine in favor of the hollows along its edges. He traverses the plane from my neck to my waist with slow deliberateness, pausing at the root of each rib. At the gully of my waist his thumbs slip along the top of my pelvis.

His fingers wrap over my hips. He presses their tips into the hollows of my thighs. The skin tightens across my mons. He kneels between my legs and runs his hands along my flanks.

His thumbs caress the creases beneath my buttocks. His weight presses against my legs as he leans forward. He smacks his first kiss upon the saddle of my back. He follows it with a second and then a third — dry, pursed lipped worshipful affairs — as he hefts my haunches.

His hands rest on the dimples of my flanks. His fingers stretch flat, his palms against my skin. He slides his hands across my arse in slow circles. My labia stick, pull then part. I feel the cool air at my opening for a moment before its lips close again. His hands change direction and my legs my buttocks part. For the first time I feel exposed. His eyes, I know, are on my darkest skin.

His motion tugs at my pucker. It opens me a little. It is the moment when I loose the romance. I must force myself not to roll onto my back and offer just the commonplace.

He pulls me onto his lap. His knees are between mine, pressing them apart. My anus is against his belly, the hair there tickles my sensitive skin. His erection rubs amongst the down covering my mons. He is growing harder and hotter.

He folds his stomach around the arc of my arse. His hands are, again, on my shoulders. I relax as he massages. My knees and thighs gradually settle into our pose. My anus begins to stretch with my posture and slips further open. He feels it to and shifts one of his hands from my shoulder. The other rests against the back of my neck.

His thumb finds its way along the crack of my arse to my opening. It rests there before slowly, increasingly, pressing against the guarding ring. I tighten at first but my resistance oozes away. I slip a fraction around him. His pressure shifts to my hole’s edge. He rolls around me in a slow circle, teasing me wider, smoothing my puckers.