Free High and Wild by Peter Brandvold

to rake them through his long, thick hair. Then, breathing hard, she would look down between their bellies again at his cock sliding in and out of her, lubricated with her own warm oozings.
    Haskell lowered his face to hers. She turned her lips away with a defiant little grunt. He placed his right hand on her chin, holding her face still, and kissed her.
    She did not return the kiss but kept her mouth stiff. Continuing to kiss her gently, he massaged her right breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger. He began sliding in and out of her faster, bucking against her with each descent into her core.
    She sucked a sharp breath, opened her mouth with a soft mewl, entangled her tongue with his, and ground her heels into his buttocks.
    He placed his hands on both sides of her head and kissed her hungrily, turning his head this way and that, probing her mouth with his tongue in the same way he was invading her pussy with his cock.
    She groaned and mewled and grunted deep in her throat, raking her hands almost painfully through his hair and then digging her fingers into his bulging biceps, squeezing.
    She pulled her mouth away from his and looked down the long canyon between them. “Oh . . . oh, Christ . . . you’re . . . you’re . . . ! You’re bringing me— ahhh !” She threw her head back as he rose higher on his toes and his outstretched arms and began hammering against her with a blood-boiling fervor.
    She hugged him tightly and said over his shoulder. “Oh, fuck—you’re good at this, you bastard. I didn’t ask for this. I want you to know!” She threw her head back on the pillow and lifted her chin, hardening her jaws until the delicate cords stood out on her long, fine neck. “I only wanted to discuss the . . . the . . . the cassssssse!”
    She sobbed and squealed.
    He could feel her hot honey boiling out of her, her pussy clutching at him like a tiny, hungry hand, her heels grinding into his buttocks, her fingernails digging into his back. At the same time, Haskell felt that his loins were about to burst.
    He held back from the precipice of fulfillment just long enough for her sobs and muffled screams to dwindle. When her body began to relax beneath her and her breathing grew less labored, he pulled out of her with a deep grunt and slid his throbbing red cock up fast against her belly.
    â€œYour hands,” he grunted.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œUse your hands, for chrissakes. Finish me!”
    â€œOh!”
    She lowered her hands between them, wrapped both around his iron-hard cock, and began pumping him. Her hands were soft and warm.
    â€œHarder!” he ordered.
    â€œI am!”
    â€œ Harder ! ”
    â€œOkay!”
    She pumped him madly. He slid his cock up higher on her belly, arching his back and squeezing his eyes closed, gritting his teeth until he thought he would grind them to powder. She slid one of her manically pumping hands down to his balls and hefted them, fondled them, and then he gave a bearlike groan and opened his eyes.
    He looked down at her. She was smiling delightedly down at his cock and balls in her fast-working hands. The seed erupted and shot up against her chin and across her lips. She laughed and continued to pump. His seed continued to jet out of him, washing across her lips and chin and neck.
    When the spasms began to dwindle, the seed spurted across her breasts.
    She pumped him more slowly now, her right hand wrapped tightly around his slightly softening member, the other cupping his heavy scrotum. She giggled and scuttled down and closed her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking him, twirling her tongue around him, keeping the fine spasms of desire going until he was finally spent.
    He sighed, rolled onto his back beside her. She rolled onto him, massaged his arms with her hands, cooing and squirming. Finally, she lifted her head and used her right arm