Free Susie Learns the Hard Way by Roger Quine Page B

limp and exhausted.
    She was draped over the brass bed-rail, legs still apart, her firm bottom pulled taut by the pose, panties stretched in a silky-white sheen that encased her delicate pussy, revealing the wet flesh that still gripped the deeply-buried fingers, that still pulsated in climax, tensing and releasing. Never had he imagined anything quite like this. He reached out, stroking her fingers almost tenderly, feeling the oily juices on the skin of her hands, feeling the heat from her body, wriggling his own finger between her two slender ones, pushing in deeper, feeling her getting hotter and wetter the deeper he went.
    She moaned, a low animal noise in her throat, and he felt her fingers slither away and out, so she could press both palms into the bed, pushing herself up until she was standing once again, gripping the brass rail, but leaning forward at the waist, pushing her bottom back towards him, pushing herself onto his finger, urging him to use her body.
    He looked down to where his finger was buried, at the delicate pink flesh that was separated by its intrusion but clutched it in its welcoming grasp, wanting it inside.
    â€˜Ar,’ he grunted quietly, and his finger plopped out. Using both hands, he pulled her panties down over her bottom, down her thighs until they were low enough for her to shake one leg free. Then he stood and leaned his waist towards her, aiming the purple-tipped shaft so it was nudging between the cheeks of her bottom, separating the puffy pink lips, pushing the glistening flesh aside and pressing easily up into the succulent wetness.
    His groans and Susie’s sighs were in perfect harmony.
    Standing with her feet apart, bent forward over the metal bed-frame, clutching the rails tightly, Susie marvelled at the virility of a bloke so old. He was as erect as any eighteen-year-old on his first attempt, never mind third or fourth. She locked her knees and let her hips do all the movements, rocking backwards and forwards, luxuriating in the solid girth as Groudle stirred away inside her, bringing the familiar hot flush to every part of her body.
    She hadn’t recognised him, of course, any more than he’d recognised her. Over the years he’d seen lots of girls from a similar angle, but only from a distance. And only a couple of them really stood out in his memory, and as he luxuriated in the silky wetness of Susie’s body it was ironic that in his mind’s eye he should see her again, bent over a school desk, one hand between her legs. Strange that he should be thinking of her teenage form as he pushed steadily into the very same little pussy that he’d seen over and over again in his mind, and which had caused him to spurt into his hand more times than he cared to think about as he re-lived that afternoon.
    Susie had no idea that he’d seen her that time, or that he was thinking of her being beaten by Miss Piggy right now, although the similarity of her position then and today had not escaped her. In fact, standing with two feet on the floor, bent over a table, an armchair or anything handy, was her favourite position still, making her more aroused beforehand and more satisfied afterwards than anything else at all.
    And as she felt him swell further, felt his thrusting lengthen and deepen, she could feel an orgasm about to overwhelm her, and reached back between her legs to grasp the dangling sac, squeezing his testicles, milking them till they contracted in her hand and he sprayed inside her yet again...
    â€˜Yer good, yer know,’ he said on the way out. ‘Dead keen. Here’s a little extra,’ and he dropped a ten-pound note on the bed, and was gone.
    Crisp and straight, it was brand new.
    Susie had never been paid for sex before, and she expected she ought to feel dirty... and she did. Deep down dirty as hell, as rude as a girl could feel.
    Downstairs in the safety of her own flat, with the door locked and bolted, she pressed the note up