One Florida Night
by Cucu Lee

I lie on the king-sized bed, eery nerve tingling, my pussy throbbing, waiting for my lover to come to me. My legs stretch languidly as I admire their smooth whiteness in the darkness.

Reflected in the glass of a large framed print hanging in the hallway, his every movement is revealed to me as I watch him undressing in the bathroom off the hall. I can see the muscles ripple in his back and upper arms as he sheds his T-shirt. Soon he will emerge, nude, his hard, erect cock telling me how urgently he wants me, desires me, is eager to make love to me.

As I switch on the radio to a music station, I suddenly remember the telephone-answering machine! My God, what if Bart calls and his voice booms out, "Get ready, baby, I'm coming over to kiss your sweet belly."

Or Peter--who always plans ahead--his clipped New England accent might suddenly announce, "Confirming Saturday, darling. I'll bring a bottle of Soave. See you around eight."

I flip the controls off, just in case.

The bathroom light goes out, and a masculine form is framed in the doorway. Giant shadows dance on the walls and ceiling from the flickering candle on the nightstand. He gropes his way down the short hall as his eyes grow accustomed to the faint candlelight of the bedroom. In the dimness I can see the silhouette of his handsome body and feel his strong hands as he reaches out for the bed, and me.

He slides onto the smooth sheet and pulls me to him, breathing his hot breath into my ear. His smell--a mixture of Irish soap, mint toothpaste, mouthwas and musky aftershave--is fresh, clean crisp.

Caught in his embrace, I feel my entire body become warm, all my senses yearning for the promise he's offering me.

His hand caresses my back, moves to my thigh, and expertly circles forward to my bushy mound, which is becoming wet with anticipation. There, in the thick black curly nest he probes the lips and gently massages my clit. A surge of ecstasy wells within me as I eagerly squirm to his touch, clasping my legs together to capture his hand rhythmically moving into my pussy. He is kissing me, tonguing me furiously, lapping like a kitten down my neck to my breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth and runs his tongue around it, causing it to become hard. The electricity of his touch shoots through me, mingling with the fire I'm feeling in my crotch.

He fondles one breast as he softly bites and kisses his way over the other breast and down my midriff to the roundness of my tummy. Slowly, up and down, he tenderly touches my skin from my rib cage to my hips.

An overwhelming feeling of desire wells up inside me, filling me, spilling over, drenching me with warmth.

As his tongue seeks the indentation of my navel, tickling, teasing, tormenting, an involuntary flinch makes me gasp, then giggle. He laughs too, and he kisses me there to remnd me that he knows where I am ticklish. His tongue inside my navel again causes another flinch.

His hands move slowly down my hips, stroking the insides of my thighs, and up the crevices outlining my pubic bone. My hips respond to his touch as I thrust my pelvis toward him, toward his probing tongue. I am panting.

His finger traces the scar on my abdoment, and he kisses it all the way up from my love mound to my navel, and stretches on top of me to clasp my face in his palms and kiss me deeply. His fingers clutch my hair as he kisses me greedily.

I feel the rigidity of his penis pressed against me, and I'm only half aware that I'm making little whimpering sounds as our tongues hungrily make love.

Like combatants in an arena we roll over and over, grasping each other tightly in a desperate embrace.

I break away first, gasping.

"You're such a good lover."

"It takes two," he responds.

I grasp his strong stiff cock in my hand and slowly move the soft covering skin up and down, u and down. He moans with delight. Like a ballet, our movements are slow and graceful, as I swing around to kiss his hard flat stomach, run my tongue over the tiny crater of his navel, and bury my nose in the fine curly light fuzz that covers his crotch. I take that magnificent cock in my mouth and slowly move up and down over it, circling the tip and flicking my tongue around its head as he groans in rapture. I am on my knees at this side, and he has reached under me and found my pussy lips. With his other hand he is grasping one breast as if it were a tennis ball, clutching, squeezing, kneading it, as he savagely thrusts his other fist against my cunt.

I am aware only of the fresh, sweet spicy taste of his prick in my mouth. I sense the Florida moonlight filtering through the curtained window, blended with the orange glow of the candle, revealing his muscular body on my bed.

The beat of the music from the radio pounds in my head. I move my ips and hips simultaneously to the beat, as I make love longingly to that gorgeous cock with my mouth and as he explores my pussy with his fingers.

Releasing his cock, I raise my hips and bring one leg over his body, straddling him. I guide the giant tool into my dripping pussy and sit back, feeling the hugness of his penis fill my vagina as my muscles grasp and tighten. Slowly, slowly I raise myself until all but the tip is revealed, and then I slide excitedly down the pole again, up and down, up and down, until he is moaning, "Yes, yes!" and I am joyfully riding, riding, riding.

When I bend forward, he catches each breast, which he sucks and nibbles with tiny little love-bites until I collapse on his chest, my lower body writhing with passion.

The movements excite my pulsating clit and bring my desires to a peak.

I don't want this moment to end.

I stifle a scream as there is a surge of sensation and my entire body responds to the earthquake with a shattering spasm.

He gently raises me, still impaled on that giant spear, and holds my shoulders as he thrusts upward, jabbing, stabbing his wet cock into my eager, receptive pussy. My head bends forward, my hair covering his face, and I move up and down, moaning for more.

I am drowning, his kisses smothering me. I move my tongue rapidly between his teeth, and he responds with a kis that crushes me to him, and I struggle for breath. I come up for air, weeping with pleasure, bouncing, bouncing.

I'm riding a crest of a wave of feeling and it seems a if I'm being carried to the highest of heights. I see skyrockets in my head. Bells are ringing.

Literally.

Shrill, persistent rings of the telephone jar my consciousness into the present. Who can be calling at this hour? I glance at the luminous dial of the bedside clock--after midnight.

"Ignore it," he commands, pulling me to him, stifling my outcry, kissing me again. Six more insisting rings and I can ignore it no longer.

Still astride that flagpole, I reach for the offending phone.

"Hello?" The chill in my voice betrays my displeasure.

Twelve-year-old Kimberly lives on the West Coast. It's three hours earlier there.

"Grandma," her bright little voice comes through the receiver, "what are you doing?"