Saturday, November 15, 2008

"Alphabetically Yours" Eve

by Julius
Copyright 2005





On Saturday, Gwen had thought of it, her next name, and a scenario to go with it.

Sunday morning dawned sunny, promising a hot day. It was a month now since their little frolic next door at Daphne's. She nudged Barry awake, "Coffee on the back deck?"

Barry got up, mumbled, "Sounds great," and padded towards the bathroom, sporting a healthy erection. 'You'll be needing that,' thought Gwen, getting out of bed and heading for the kitchen.

She put the coffee on and went outside. The trees, plus the fence Barry had put up the previous year, gave them complete privacy. Gwen peeled off the old tee-shirt she wore in bed and revelled in the touch of cool morning air. Naked, she stood looking down at herself, as the chill worked its magic on her nipples.

Barry emerged, wearing just boxers, "You're beautiful," he told her.

"I am today," she said softly. "I'm Eve, the first woman in the world, created fresh this morn."

"Then I'm Adam and very lucky," he grinned, realising this must be the next of her pretend sessions. "Pray tell, is this before or after the serpent's intervention?"

"Before, I'm afraid."

Barry feigned horror, "Nothing carnal then?"

"'Fraid not."

"Then I can just look?" he asked, looking anyway.


She pirouetted, "Oh yes, you'll even be allowed to touch."

At this he brightened but added, "But as you said, nothing carnal."

The scent of coffee drifted from the kitchen. "Let's have a little breakfast. Even Garden of Eden people have to eat." Gwen moved to the patio door.


Barry ate his toast and marmalade and sipped his coffee. His eyes followed her every move. Finally, she said, "The shorts have to go Adam." She placed her hand on her stomach and slid it down until her fingertips reached her trimmed bush. "This is Eden, remember."

He stood and slipped his shorts off his hips and stepped out of them. Gwen loved his cock. She wanted to touch it, to feel its hot heaviness. Not a full erection yet, but it was swollen and lifting to near horizontal. There was a sweet satisfaction in knowing she was the cause.

Moving across the kitchen, she picked up a small bag and headed outside again. She swore she could feel his eyes caress her ass. Turning in the doorway, she beckoned him to follow.







Taking a bottle of massage oil from the bag, she turned to face him. "I was wondering ..." she said.

After a pause Barry asked, "Wondering what?"

"Well, how would this girl look, covered in oil? How would it feel, having you put it on for me?"

She handed him the oil and he said, "Sounds a great idea." The grin on his face said just how great he thought it was.

He did her arms first, slow and gentle. His eyes seldom left her jostling breasts.

Kneeling in front of her, he began to oil her legs, starting at her feet. Slowly he worked his way up. When he reached mid thigh, she turned and leaned her hands on the picnic table.

He got to his feet and Gwen gave a little wiggle. "You can do my ass," she said, "but you mustn't enjoy it, OK?"

"OK."

She loved it. His slick hands slid over the swells of her ass in a continual caress. When he ventured his fingers a little between her buttocks, she wanted to tell him how good it felt, wanted him to go further, deeper. Christ, but it turned her on. She tried not to writhe, tried not to bend further. He never quite reached her anus, never lingered too long, just smoothed and slid his clever hands over her soft flesh.

She had to turn, to turn and look at his cock, to see his eyes. Oh sweet Jesus, his cock! Too big for her surely, too big for her sweet little pussy. And oh, the look in his eyes, the longing, the wanting. The poor, dear man, he wanted her as much as she wanted him!

She picked up the oil and began dribbling it over her breasts.

As he raised his hands she cautioned him, "Now remember, no enjoying this, either of us."


"Of course not," he said hoarsely.

She'd not imagined she'd get so aroused, not so quickly. They were to play, enjoy each other's bodies. Prolonged outdoor foreplay, that's what she'd planned.

His hands were on her breasts and the messages were pouring down to her pussy. She stared down, between his caressing hands. His cock pointed straight up at her. A clear drop of his juice crept down his shaft, another oozed out to follow it. The jutting erection swayed from side to side, as he oiled her breasts. It was hypnotic, how she wanted it in her hand, in her mouth, in her cunt.

It was a measure of her arousal, saying the word cunt to herself. Her whole being seem focused on cock and cunt; his cock, her cunt. The denial was sweet torture.

Her hands reached back and gripped the edges of the table as he cupped and lifted the soft globes of her breasts. Gwen's nipples responded to his palms, his fingers, until every nerve ending in her body seemed wired to the tips of those breasts.

"I can't take much more," she heard the words, and realised she'd spoken aloud.


She fumbled for the bag and took out a large red apple. It was temptation time.

"We're forbidden to eat of the fruit of that tree," he told her, nodding towards the apple in her hand.


Bless him, she thought, playing his part, despite his raging hard-on.

She brought the apple down and pressed it between her legs.

Gwen watched him watch her, his eyes fixed on what her hand was doing.

She perched her ass on the edge of the table and spread her thighs obscenely wide. Drawing the apple up and down her wetness, she fucked herself. She had the crazy idea of pushing it up inside her, despite its size.

She was so wet now, leaking, coating the apple. Would it really go inside her, she wondered? Barry's groan woke her from her fantasy. She raised her hand and offered the apple to him.

He licked it, the most erotic thing she'd ever seen. He took a bite, the sound loud and crisp. Gwen lowered the apple and began rubbing herself again.

Leaning back and straining her thighs open wider, she worked the apple, hard and deep, up and down, between the lips of her pussy.

"Adam want another bite?" she taunted him, "Adam want another taste?"

She felt the heat flooding inside her and knew she could bring herself off like this. She'd surely never been this cock-hungry before? That cock was only a couple of feet from her and it looked beautiful. She was going to have it in her, so very, very soon. The apple slid up and down.

She watched Barry through slitted eyes. He was staring at the action between her legs, his mouth slightly open. He licked his lips repeatedly. She looked down, her thighs were wide spread, tendons straining. Her hand ground the big, red apple into her pussy, slow and steady.

"For fuck's sake," growled Barry, bringing her back to earth. Her poor husband was gripping his beautiful cock now and pumping it slowly, his face a mask of longing.

He stepped forward and took the apple from her hand and flung it into the bushes. Pushing her back onto the table, he plunged his face between her legs. Gwen sobbed as his tongue and lips tried to devour her.

She writhed under Barry's mouth, like a fish on a hook. His tongue licked and lapped. His lips, kissing and sucking were turning her inside out. A scream began to bubble in her throat. God! She was coming!

He straightened and roughly pulled her off the table and spun her round. Her orgasm crouched in her body, poised, stretched. Her being held its breath, waiting. Sobbing on the brink, she braced herself with herhands on the table. She felt herself, quivering, trembling.

She was so wet with her juices that he entered her effortlessly, in one long, hungry lunge. She felt and heard his thighs slap against her ass. The head of his cock nudged against her cervix, making her gasp. He was deep in her in that one thrust, gripping her hips with his hands, grinding hard, trying to pierce her yet further.

She collapsed onto the table, her breasts crushed against the rough wooden planks. Barry thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew with a desperate hunger. The heavy table moved a little with each of his lunges. Gwen loved it, she was being fucked - no other word would do - and she heard herself telling him to fuck her, telling him over and over again.

He couldn't last long. She sensed him gatheringhimself, his breathing getting more desperate. He froze, thrust, froze again. God, she felt his cock swell inside her, heard him sob and then he was fighting, emptying himself inside her.

Gwen's orgasm burst free then. Her pussy spasmed and began its frantic milking of his cock, as she struggled and writhed between his straining body and the hard table top.

In time, they got their breath back and their hearts slowed. His cock softened and shrank, and crept from her. She loved and hated that withdrawal.

Barry stood and said softly, "Couldn't help myself hon."

He sounded almost sad and she felt the same flicker of loss. All that heat, all that passion, spent so quickly, done so soon.

She pushed herself up from the table and turned, weak and trembling, to face him. She smiled at him, her eyes locked with his. She wasn't finished yet and, although he didn't know it, neither was he.

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked her.

Gwen picked up the oil and reached for his shrunken cock.


"Let Eve have a word or two with this cute little serpent."

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