2 comments/ 26332 views/ 4 favorites What a Sunday Ch. 01 By: storylover08 What a Sunday. Late as always, Rachel rushed out of the shower flying through her expedited morning routine. She whips the towel around drying her tight body, using it afterwards to wrap her long wet hair. Next she applies lotion to her limbs with the speed of light. Into the closet . . . what to wear?! She never knows whether to try and make a good first impression at these damn things. 'No time', Rachel thinks as she slides her no-show low black panties up over her hips. Bra . . .bra!! Where the hell was her front clasp black bra?! She finds it lying in the second sink -- the one she uses as a 'catch-all' since there's no one to use it. She shrugs into the bra; it slips up over her tan shoulders as she draws the cups over her full breasts and secures the clasp. Just for a second she catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror. If it weren't for the wild-eyed frenzied thing going on with her face she thinks, 'not bad'. She dabs patchouli oil on her wrists and in the hollow of her neck and discards the towel on the floor. She violently brushes her hair, cussing through the tangles. Back in the closet she selects a simple wrap dress and slips it off the hanger and over her head in one continuous motion. Pulling it down, it falls over her curves and lands flirtatiously at the knee level. She grabs a pair of medium heeled ankle-wrap sandals, her favorite chandelier earrings, and slides on her watch which shows that she's now 20 minutes behind. Back on the unmade bed, she rushes with her shoes and her earrings. Rachel reaches for her purse, double checking that she has her cell phone and her makeup bag. At the bedroom door she does a final check of the room and spots an earring winking crystal and serene on the end of her messy bed. It's always this way with Rachel - twenty minutes late and 1 earring short. She lunges for the earring and is out the door. On the highway traffic is inexplicably light and she makes up some time. 'Good Day to Run' is playing loud and she sings out letting the song work to lift her mood. One hand on the steering wheel tapping out the beat, the rearview mirror acting as her makeup mirror, she applies mascara at 70 mph. She loves this song. It makes her wish for a good looking, broad shouldered cowboy in old boots and perfectly broken-in Levi's. One who smells like cologne and beer and can dance like nobody's business. Tall and strong -- spinning her round the dance floor -- the centrifugal force of the two-step point turns fanning her hair around her-- the song and the man filling all her senses. It's so good she can almost feel it. She's belting out the last stanza and zipping up her makeup bag when the tire blows. Somehow she manages to get the car to the shoulder. Rachel always has a way keeping calm and making the right moves when all hell breaks loose. Rolling to a stop she pushes the button to turn on her flashers. It's then she realizes that her hand is shaking and her breathing is erratic. She grips the steering wheel to settle her nerves and lets out a long loud string of expletives that begins with 'holy' and ends several seconds later with 'son of a bitch'. She closes her eyes and tries to calm down so that she can think of what to do next. She takes her cell phone out of her purse. She has to call Carol to tell her that she isn't going to make it. The call goes to voicemail and she listens to Carol's chirpy voice message while watching the cars whoosh past her. Beep! "Hey Carol, it's Rachel. I was on my way but I've just had a blowout. Can you believe it?!! I've had one helluva morning! I woke up late so I've been hauling ass -- I wasn't paying attention. There was probably something in the road. I don't know. I didn't see it. Either that or my freakin' tires are bald. Guess I'm not going to make it. I'm sorry for. . ." The tap, tap at the window startles her. She registers a bronze belt buckle and the tongue of a well worn brown leather belt, jeans, and ½ tucked hem of a navy t-shirt. "Look. I'll call ya later." "You ok?" he asks. Sam was driving several cars behind her and saw her swerve off the road trailing the remnants of her back passenger tire. Rachel snaps the phone shut and rolls down the window. "What?" she asks a little dazed. "You ok?" Sam asks again. "I saw you head off the road. It could've been bad. I just wanted to make sure that you didn't need help." "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine," she offers weakly. "Good. Good," Sam says as he bends down to the window. "Gotta spare?" he asks casually. Rachel stutters, "A what? Oh. Well, to tell you the truth I don't know." "You don't know if you have a spare?!" He can't help himself, Sam smirks. "Pop the trunk." "What?! Why?" she retorts rather frazzled. "Your trunk. I'll check and see if you have a spare." Rachel is dumbstruck. She's not sure if it's the blowout or the fact that this underwear model of a man has just appeared out of nowhere and is now asking to get into her trunk. He's tall, maybe 6'1" or 6'2" and muscular with wavy dark hair and a chiseled, sun kissed face. She's tongue-tied -- a definite rarity. Instead of sitting there struck stupid she fumbles around trying to find the button to the trunk under the dash. Damn the car makers! Why did they always hide the f-ing buttons! Sam watches her for a moment and tries hard not to smile. Her long dark hair is loose and wet. As she leans forward to find the trunk release it falls forward and the scent of her hair rises up to his nostrils. It smells feminine and flowery. Through the veil of her long wet locks he can just see her dark seductive eyelashes and the flesh of her cleavage rounding up over her silky black dress. Her skirt had risen part way up her lean, tan, bare thighs. He notices the muscles in her calves as they flex when she presses the heels of her high-heeled sandals against the floorboard. She is flustered and raw and damn if she's not the most beautiful thing Sam thinks he's ever seen. After a moment he realizes he's staring. He walks back to check out the tire and give her time to compose herself and to find the button. The tire is shredded, and with good reason. There isn't any tread left at all. "Women!" he thinks as he rips a few loose flaps of rubber from the wheel. Rachel finally finds the button and presses it. She sits up then and takes a deep breath. Just breathe, she tells herself. She checks her rearview to see where he has gone and finds herself looking back in her impromptu 'makeup mirror'. Before adjusting it she checks herself and brushes her hair back from her face. 'Here goes nothing', she sighes and steps out to see if she can help locate the spare. He is already digging around in her trunk. As she walks to the back of her car she catches him bent over and rummaging. His long legs are set slightly apart showcasing an ass that definitely needs to model underwear. She watches the muscles in his arms dance as he shifts things around -- his shoulders fill out his shirt then narrow into a broad expanse of muscular back and waist. The smooth bronzed skin of his lower back is exposed a little where his t-shirt is coming out of his jeans. God if she doesn't love the rolling plains of a strong man's back. "Having any luck?" Rachel asks, catching him off guard. Sam rises up startled and strikes his head on the trunk lid. "Christ!" he exclaims reaching up for the spot of the pain as he extricates himself. "Oh I'm sorry!" she says, her hands flying up to her face to hide the spontaneous laugh. "Apparently my car's out to kill today." Rubbing the top of his head Sam turns. "Guess so," he says with a smile. "I'm Sam." "I'm Rachel. Listen, thanks for stopping to help." "Not a problem. Although I don't know how much help I'm going to be. Seems you don't have a spare." "Yeah," Rachel says sheepishly, "I was afraid of that." After jacking up the car and getting the wheel off, Sam offers to drive Rachel to a nearby shop to get a new tire. Rachel thanks him for the offer but says that she has AAA. He tells her it's not a problem and that he'd hate to think of her waiting out on the side of the road for a tow truck. "It can take a while. I can't just leave you here. I was just going to get breakfast anyways. Hey! You hungry? Let me buy you breakfast and then I'll take you to get another tire." "Actually I'm famished. You sure you wouldn't mind?" "It'd be my pleasure," he says grinning. "Ok. Well then, Great! I'll get my purse." "I'll just throw your wheel in the back of the truck." As she walked back to the driver's door, the thought hit Rachel that this could be a very stupid thing to do. To give herself a moment to think it through she gets in and turns on the car. She closes the door, rolls up the window, and locks the doors. Her mind is racing: What the hell am I doing?! He could be an ax murderer! I can't just jump into a car with a stranger! But he's gorgeous and he stopped to help! He's offering to buy breakfast! Would an ax murderer do that? Yes! Remember all those movies? Don't be stupid! But there's something about him. That's what they said about Ted Bundy. He's not Ted Bundy. Really?! Just tell him. . ." Tap. Tap. It's him. Rachel rolls down the window. Sam leans in. "Relax. I'm not an ax murderer. C'mon. I'm hungry." And with that he walks back to his Chevy. 'Oh my god! Was I talking out loud??!!' Rachel thinks, mortified, as she grabs her purse and gets out of the car. "Do I have your word on that?" She asks as she climbs in the truck and closes the door. Sam turns in his seat to face her. "You have my word," he croons as he puts the truck in drive. "Buckle up." They drive for a while then exit the freeway and turn onto Fairmont. Sam is a casual yet attentive driver. He looks as if he were born to drive this thing. The ride gives her time to calm down and study him further. They talk little. Sam can feel her watching him and finds it distracting. He feels a little self conscious. He uses his peripheral vision to drink her in. He can't risk looking over at her because she has her right leg crossed over her left and her luscious thighs are showing. What's more that seat belt is snug against her little waist and the shoulder strap is nestled between her breasts. It's driving him crazy and he's sure he'd give himself away. Off Fairmont they take Yale and arrive at a tiny run down place in the middle of a string of shops. The beat up sign reads Bienvenido Breakfast Taco. The parking lot is not paved and it's full of pot holes. Despite the dilapidated appearance, there's not an empty space in the lot. "You're in for a treat, Rachel," Sam tells her, spying a car's break lights indicating that someone was pulling out. He puts on his blinker and pulls forward and can't help but register Rachel's tits bounce with the truck movement. "This is the best breakfast taco in town. I woke up craving these suckers." "Really?" she says teasingly. "So that's what brought you my way? A craving?" Sam cuts the engine and his heart skips a beat. Was she flirting? "Yep. You'll see," he replies, opening his door -- glad for the cool blast of air, "One bite and you're hooked." "Can't wait then, I'm starving, " Rachel replies. "Hold on, I'll get your door. Sometimes it sticks." Sam runs around to the passenger door and opens it with a sweeping bow. "After you Ma'am," he says dramatically and watches as she slides down off the seat, dress riding up even more. "Why thank you, Sir," Rachel replies in her best Southern drawl. As she walks ahead towards the entrance, he takes notice that, despite the uneven terrain of the run down parking lot, she walks like a lady -- perfect posture and graceful steps in her high heels. It's a stellar walk. Sam's eyes roam over the swaying curve of her full hips and the amazing way her perfect ass looks as that dress moves over her backside. Was she wearing panties? He couldn't tell. As he opens the restaurant door he takes a slow deep breath and thinks 'down boy' to the swelling in his jeans. Inside there are no tables available so they place their order at the counter and find a picnic bench outside. It's one of those balmy spring mornings where the sky is robin's egg blue, the sun is warm, and the air feels like a cool kiss on the skin. Rachel tips her face to the sun to keep from staring at Sam. She can't help herself. He's got great eyes - bedroom eyes - brown eyes that drink her in. "The sun feels great," says Rachel, running her hands through her damp hair to let it air dry. "For a crappy morning, this is turning out ok," she says looking at him and smiling brightly. "Thank you, Sam, for saving my crappy morning and bringing me here." Her smile floors him. With her hands in her hair and those full lips and big eyes he can't help himself. "You're beautiful," he blurts out, exhaling the breath he's been holding. "You're beautiful and you're welcome." Rachel feels her cheeks fill with color and her eyes beam at the compliment. "Wow!" she exclaims. "Keep that up and you'll make my whole week!" Breakfast arrives and Sam's right - it's delicious. They share surprisingly easy conversation. He's a commercial building contractor, she's in marketing. She's 28, he's 32. Both like country and rock music. She tells Sam of her rush of a morning, trying to make it to Carol's charity fundraiser, of not paying too much attention on the road. He watches her facial expressions and the way she talks with her hands. He watches her mouth form words, her lips. "So, are you in a relationship now?" Sam asks, dragging his finger through the last of the salsa and sucking it off of his finger. "Huh?" Rachel mumbles as she watches his finger and his tongue. "Are you seeing anyone?" he repeats. "Oh! Uh. No," she stammers, taken off guard by this sudden switch of conversation. "I find that hard to believe," he suggests, looking her over. "I see," she smirks as she catches his looks. "What about you?" she asks. He doesn't respond immediately and Rachel finds her disappointment rising. "Well. See. After my last girlfriend and I broke up I thought that I'd give women up for Lent," he says his eyes lit with cynical mischief. Rachel laughs. "Oh! So you're a religious man AND you've sworn off women." "No, no. Just taking a break. Sometimes it's important to fast." "So you're single then, and just taking a break." "Obviously." He winked. As they walk back to the truck Sam stops Rachel at the passenger door. He reaches over to open her door and brushes her arm with his hand sending a bolt of electricity right through her. "Rachel," Sam says looking straight into her eyes imploringly. "Do me a favor." She stands stock still looking up at him feeling the current pulse through her. "Please don't wear that seatbelt," he whispers, closing his eyes in embarrassment. "What!?" she asks, flushed and a little confused. "Your seatbelt. It was driving me crazy the way it nuzzled in between your breasts," Sam confesses, his eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted with the sharing of his thoughts. Rachel's face breaks into a wicked grin. "What? This seatbelt?" she asks sliding past him back and settling back into the truck. "I'm afraid I can't do that," she teases dramatically pulling it across her and fastening the belt. "It wouldn't be safe," she states matter-of-factly, pulling the shoulder strap, letting it slide in between her swollen cleavage. Sam watches, amused by her brazenness. So she wants to play. "Safety is important. You should be careful," Sam says low, reaching in across her, slowly sliding a finger across the lower belt until he finds the fastener. Rachel feels his fingertips stroke lightly across her abdomen and her breath catches in her throat. He leans into her so that his lips are close to her ear as he clicks the locking mechanism free. His fingers trail up the shoulder strap, slipping their way up in between the curves of her tits. "But see now, you keep that up and we might have a wreck," he says tauntingly as he slowly feeds the shoulder strap back up through her cleavage. His warm breath on her cheek caresses her skin. She turns her face to him as his hand travels carefully up her chest, following the harness as it winds its way back into its box. "Want me to drive?" she purrs into his mouth, their lips almost touching, At that Sam tilts his head back and laughs, caught off-guard in the heated moment by her sense of humor. He finds her intoxicating and sexy as hell. Sam can't remember the last time someone had turned him on so much and made him laugh to boot. "I saw the way you drive, remember?" he replies teasingly as he lets go of the belt and securely closes her door. Rachel was shaking her head and smiling out the window as he eased himself back behind the wheel. "Where to now, Sam?" she asks sweetly, crossing her legs giving him a nice view of her bare skin. Sam was asking himself the same question. He was desperately trying to come up with an idea that might keep her in his truck a little longer. Just the smell of her alone was driving him insane. It was earthy and sensual and there was something sweet there too. He couldn't place it but it caused him to throb. He had been fighting an erection all through breakfast, but that last interchange made him surrender the fight. His cock is now painfully swollen and bent in his pants. He desperately needs to adjust himself but doesn't want to draw attention to the fact that he has a hard on. His pulse is going crazy and he turns on the truck on to get air moving before he starts to sweat. Out of habit he reaches back and grabs for his belt, pulling it down and efficiently clicking it into place. "Uh uh uh," she says, uncrossing her long legs and sliding over in the seat until she is next to him. She reaches down and presses the button to release the lock. "Fair is fair, Sam." Rachel says cooing as her hand moves over the latch. She looks up at him seductively and slowly drags it across his cock. Sam groans low as he feels her hand run over his raging erection. His pelvis jerks slightly as she lightly eases her wrist, then her forearm across him letting the belt recoil. "Rachel, now that's not fair," he whispers huskily as he turns toward her. With her arm across him like that her breasts are pressing against him. He looks at her, his eyes lustful. She lets his seat belt go and brings the tip of her index finger to his lips. "Shhh now," she whispers as she traces his full mouth with her fingertip. "The way I see it, turnabout's fair play. Wanna play with me, Sam?" she asks enticingly, wetting her mouth and bringing her finger to her lips. "I want to warn you. You'd better be careful. I play dirty." Sam's lips are tingling from her touch and his cock lurches in his pants. He watches as she slowly sucks her slender manicured finger into her mouth, teasing him with both the action and her words. He fights the urge to push her back onto the seat and take her right then and there. But she's inviting him for a game of tease. It is painfully obvious that she knows what she's doing. It's worth the wait just to see how far it goes. He wonders how wet she is right now. If this teasing is doing to her body what it's doing to his. 'Game on,' he growls low as makes his next move. His left hand moves up and traces the underside of her right breast through her dress. It is sensitive there, he knows that, and her shudder pleases him. He gently moves his hand up until he's cupping her breast in his hand feeling its fullness, the swollen weight feeling so good. Her bra is made of something thin, no padding - all silky fabric and flesh. He slides his thumb up over her nipple which is taught, protruding hard and demanding through her dress. He feels her lift to offer it as she sucks in her breath. He looks hungrily into her big brown eyes which are wide with awe as he pinches her nipple firmly between his thumb and index finger. What a Sunday Ch. 01 Her head falls back and she sighs hotly, 'Oohhhhh.' "How dirty can you get?" Sam whispers hotly, lips grazing her neck -- her nipple still between his fingers. "Mmmmmm," she moans. "Guess you'll have to try me and see." . . . To Be Continued . . . What a Sunday Ch. 02 Languishing in the intense pleasure of his fingers milking her nipple and the thrilling warmth of his words on her neck, Rachel closes her eyes. That 'something about him' had just solidified in her and she knew then what it was. It was the rare earth magnet pull of chemistry. How your body knows before the first touch how good it will be. It had been so long since she had felt it that she was afraid it had gone away. Now every nerve ending in her body was resonating with it, energized by the lightning storm erupting from his touch. She knew without having to ask that he felt it too. Not just because he was hard or advancing. She knew a man's body, and therefore a man, will respond to visual stimuli without really engaging the mind. No, this was more. Way more. It was his primal breathing, the smell of his skin, the intensity of his firm but tender hold on her breast. He was measuring -- not taking. It was there for him too, thick and strong. She feels the intense need to experience his mouth on her. Rachel wants to suckle him, she wishes he could feed from her body. All of it. Demands form in her depths but she suppresses them for now. She enjoys being suspended in the bipolar thrill of urgency and the slowing down of time registering every touch, savoring. It does wicked things to her body. Her sex is overflowing - her lips swelling her insides hot, pink, and ripe -- her clit throbbing. Desire leaks from her slit slippery wet. She feels herself surrender to the exquisite feelings of her re-awakening and moans his name. 'Ooooooohhhhhh Sam.' The sound is molten heat through his body, sizzling its way down and erupting in his loins. His cock throbs and jerks, precum oozing from the head. His balls tingle then tighten, as if he might cum from the sound of her. Her breast is so full, her nipple rock hard from his attention. He can smell her arousal, it taunts his nostrils with promise of sweet succulence. His hunger is almost unbearable. He is feral and starving for her. In a fluid motion attesting to feminine grace, Rachel tips her head forward while her eyes flutter their long lashes. It is coy and provocative. She is so close now that they are sharing breath. Their heads slowly begin to undulate in rhythm -- lips parted, tongues snaking across lower lips. The synapse between them alive with anticipation, their mouths dance, eyes lock and then travel searching, recording every movement. 'So hot,' Sam breathes as he breaks the plane descending upon her mouth. In the static filled instant that their lips meet for the first time, the barrier is broken and lust surges forth. He reaches up and threads his fingers through her hair, capturing his prey as he consumes her soft full mouth. Rachel yields to him, granting entrance -- drawing him in with her tongue and her velvety smooth lips. Passionately he kisses her, sucking and exploring, teasing her lips with his. Their tongues meet, rolling and gliding in and out exploring. Bound together they linger lip locked on the precipice of their carnal abyss. Just then Rachel's phone rings. The cacophonous shriek of the ringer makes them both jump. Rachel grabs for her purse, desperate to silence the intrusion. Caller-id shows it's Carol. She can't ignore her -- Carol's a worrier. If she has gotten the message then she'll need to know that things are all right. If she hasn't, then she's worried sick. "Hey there!" Rachel answers. Carol's animated voice squawks rapidly out of the earpiece while Rachel grins mischievously at Sam. 'No. It's all right, everything is fine. I'm fine.' More talking on the other end. 'Someone stopped to help, he's taking me to get a tire.' The voice gets louder, all rapid fire questions and concerns. 'I'm fine, REALLY. I'm safe I promise." Rachel winks. She moves over and opens the passenger door stepping out while motioning that Carol won't shut up. As Rachel begins to pace slowly back and forth talking quietly outside the car, Sam stretches in his seat - grateful for the opportunity to rearrange his raging erection. He is so swollen and full of pent up seed that it aches. His cock is now stubbornly stuck at full attention -- 8 ½ inches of pulsing need. Straight up his cockhead is pushing at the top of his jeans. The front of his boxer briefs is soaked with precum. Sam leans his head against the back window of the truck, rubbing his dick he groans. His thoughts are jumbled by this screaming need for release. We can't fuck here in broad daylight, he thinks masturbating himself through the denim. His next thought is of home. He wants to take her to his bed. The thought of driving the miles home with his cock throbbing painfully makes him grimace and groan again. 'Fuck!' he growls. Sam rolls his head and looks out the window at Rachel who is absentmindedly playing with a tendril of her hair while talking away on her cell. Her smile is so breathtaking that for a moment he forgets his inner conversation and just stares. He wants her. All of her. Every centimeter of flesh, every taste, every sound. He clenches his jaw at the image of her naked. He wants to see those tits and that scrumptious ass dance for him. He wants to feel her skin. He wants to see her surrender to him, her hair spread out on his pillow and her body slowly moving to his touch. He wants to see her open herself for him. He wants . . . needs to fill her, thrust deep and hold rocking his balls against her. Sam can't wait to feast on her sweet wet pussy. He can't wait to feel her, hear her orgasm around him. He wants Rachel like nothing he's ever known. He rolls his head back and forth smiling as the thought hits him that it's been less than 20 minutes and by all accounts he's been TKO'd. Rachel hangs up with a now calm Carol, promising to call later. She gets back into the truck smirking. "Sorry about that. That's the friend I was going to meet -- she's a little high strung." "Not a problem," Sam chokes out, setting himself upright in the seat. Sitting up the pressure in his groin is painful. He hopes to god he doesn't look like an idiot and tries to act natural. "So? Where to?" he asks in his best 'it's all good' voice. "Well, there's my tire," Rachel says pointing to the truckbed, "Remember?" Sam doesn't follow her gesture. Instead he stares straight ahead, his jaw working systematically as he considers his options. He could excuse himself and go back in to the restaurant bathroom and jack off. What a fucking waste. He could take her to a tire shop farther south to buy time for a miracle to happen -- the one where his hard-on subsides and the ache in his balls just disappears. Yeah, right. He could drive her to his house, where he wanted to be right now. He could ask her, but then she might get scared or feel like he's pressuring her. He could . . . "Sam?" Rachel interrupted. "You ok?" He turned to face her, his expression pained and searching -- that expression told her everything she needed to know. Her eyes danced and a slow wicked smile spread across her face. "You poor thing," Rachel cooed sliding over in the seat. "Think you can drive?" Back on the road Sam rolls down the window to get some fresh air moving. The wind feels great rushing in as he heads back towards the highway and Sam feels the first hints of relief washing over him as the air works its magic. Maybe there'd be a miracle after all. At the feeder road they hit a red light and Rachel turns him. One look at her and he instantly searches for those lips, kissing hungrily. Rachel responds with intensity in kind -- their mouths expressing their unspoken pleas for more. It continues until a horn blares. Sam looks up to see a green light signally that he is holding up traffic as Rachel's mouth wanders -- soft warm wet kisses on his face, his chin, down his neck to his adam's apple. He guns the truck as she continues her decent, her hands moving down his torso, pulling at his shirt, searching -- winding their way down over his belt buckle. Her fingers glide over his erection, continuing down to cup the crotch of his jeans sending a jolt throught his balls then back up exploring the length of him while her mouth caresses his neck. She kisses her way up to his ear, sending a shiver through him as she whispers, "Mmmmmm. That's a big cock, Sam. Is it for me?" He moved his pelvis in response and turned to kiss her greedily once more, trying to keep his eyes on the road. Rachel smiles into the underside of his jaw, licking catlike as she strokes his cock though his jeans. Her hand was warm and skillful -- her fingers running along the perimeter of his shaft, outlining and tickling. Deftly she moves up and in a fluid series of quick motions manages to undo his belt and the top button of his jeans. "I want you," she purrs, her lips sucking his earlobe. Sam lets out a low guttural noise and guides her hand back to his dick. He moves her up and down pressing hard. "Feel how hard you make me," he hisses rising up to meet the pressure. "Yesssssss," she hisses back her fingers pulling at his zipper. God she was good. Her warm fingertips rake his lower belly, slipping just inside the waistband of his boxers. Down they descend coming into contact with the tip of his head, tracing featherlike circles around its opening. Precum coats her fingers as she runs them down, gliding easily over his helmet to his shaft. "Oh fuck," Sam moans as her hand wraps around his cock for the first time, sliding silky and hot down his shaft, milking him. "Yes baby. Fuck that feels good," he sighs as she slowly caresses his throbbing dick. "Promise me you won't wreck," her breath hot in his ear. "Promise!" she insists, squeezing him harder. "I swear! Don't stop," he pleads. She giggles kisses onto his collarbone at his response. Rachel scoots her ass back on the seat and lowers her head into Sam's lap. Pulling up his shirt she licks hungrily at his waistline with her wet warm tongue while her hand continues stroking him. "I'm gonna put your big cock in my mouth, Sam," she teases, looking up at him with her eyes on fire. "I want to taste you." And with that her hand releases him and she uses it to pull down his boxers as far as they will go. His manhood springs free, the cool air hitting his dick -- Sam's breath catches in his throat. Rachel watches his cock react to its new freedom, admiring its girth and the deep pink tinge of his swollen head. "Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh," she moans, forming a small o and descending, stretching her warm wet lips over his head and down so slowly that he cries out. "Rachel! Oh Christ your mouth is so good. Suck it. Suck my cock, baby!" "MMmmmmmm," she hums, her hot mouth vibrating around gliding down the length of him until he hits the back of her throat. Her lips close tightly around him and she sucks him then, her tongue pressing against him, snaking around his shaft. After a moment she begins to rise, dragging her mouth, sucking back up at the same torturously slow pace. She licks around the underside of his helmet, "Yeah soo good," she moans low. Her tongue laps at him with playful decadent licks. She sucks him back into her mouth, his head pushing past her lips. Her mouth moves up and down -- in a slow dance alternating tongue strokes with full throat assaults. She wets her hand and wraps it around the base of his cock, gripping firmly. She strokes up while her hungry mouth sinks to meet it. The feeling of being fully engulfed makes the cum in his balls boil. Tearing his eyes from the road he watches her take his cock into her soft full lips. "Oh fuck yes. That's it. You're going sucking me so good." With that Rachel goes wild, her mouth and hand in rhythm, wet -- so wet and warm, her lips tight around him massaging his length, the pressure of her hand at his base. She devours him, slurping and sucking kneading his swollen meat with her ravenous mouth. "Rachel, oh god Rachel, you'd better stop or you're gonna make me cum!" Sam grunts, as she opens her throat taking him down to his balls. Her lips at his base push insistently as her throat spasms around his head. "I'm gonna cum! It's gonna cum. Oh fuck yeah, I'm cummminggggggg!" Sam yells as his cock erupts deep into her mouth, balls emptying, wave after wave of hot jism spurting out on her tongue and into her throat. Rachel sucks greedily, massaging him with her tongue to coax every drop he offers. "MMmmmmmmmm," she hums again, rotating her head slowly so that her mouth swirls up and around him. She continues until she feels him slackening, knowing that he's now sensitive, taking care to be tender, wanting him to never forget it. Sam feels like blacking out. It was all he could do to keep them on the highway. It was the most intense orgasm he's ever had and his muscles are now protesting with after-cum spasms. He's amazed at her ability to make him go so quickly and with such force. Though he loves head he rarely orgasms by oral alone. Rachel had just sucked him off and swallowed it all, and now she was pampering his soon to be flaccid penis like she was putting a child to sleep. His whole body was tingling. She is absolutely incredible! Rachel tucked him away in his boxers and sat up with a huge grin. "Better now?!" she asks playfully. Sam responds by reaching for her, wrapping his hand around the back of her head and pulling her in for a deep kiss. Rachel loved a man that enjoyed the taste of his on cum on her lips. "That was incredible," Sam mumbles into their kiss. They drive a while in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Sam is content, Rachel is on fire. She can feel her juices running down the crack of her ass, her clit hard and begging, her pussy aching to be filled. She isn't sure if she is on the brink of getting mad or just going mad but something needed to be done about it and soon. Teasing herself, she runs her hand along her inner thigh, playing with the hem of her dress. Inch by inch she draws it father up, seeking access to her throbbing sex. Sam notices what she was doing and starts instantly to spring back to life. They were only a few miles from his home now. He hopes that she won't mind his executive decision to drive her to his place -- but he knows that they need to somewhere to let their passions run wild. Besides, he really wants this woman in his bed. It's like he somehow knows that she belongs there. Rachel's dress is now hiked up exposing her panties and her hand is tantalizingly close to her hot covered pussy. The sight of her exposed thighs contrasting with the black fabric of those panties arouses him further. Her fingers working their way up is so sexy. Her aroma makes him lick his lips. He could swear that the insides of the top of her thighs are glistening with her wetness. Did she get that wet without even being touched? Though he hates to interrupt her, he has to know. He reaches over and caressed her thigh -- starting on the outside gently working his way in. She closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of the seat as she parts her legs just a little more to allow him to continue his exploration. He travels further up her soft leg to her cunt, applying gentle pressure, traces his finger up the center of her lips. Rachel rocks her hips and whimpers. She was not wet, she was fucking soaked. Her panties were oozing with her juices, her pouty lips not able to contain her dripping pussy nectar. "Oh Sam, I'm so wet," she pants. "Please!" she whimpers. Pressing his middle finger down through her slit, dragging her panties into her lips Sam replied, "Hold on baby, we're almost home." . . . To Be Continued . . . What a Sunday Ch. 03 Rachel opens her eyes to find a winding road stretched out between long rows of flanking trees. When had the city given way to their rural surroundings? This wasn't the way home. A small voice inside her begins to protest but the friction on her slit overrides the worry. She is consumed with the wanton feeling of vulnerability and need. Sam's touch is careful and testing. It conveys that he has no intention of hurting her. One turn off the road and Rachel finds herself approaching a small house at the end of a long gravel drive. It is well kept; dark shutters frame the windows of the red brick exterior. A glass door covers the black front door. There is a woodpile neatly stacked next to the covered front porch. A garden hose is uncoiled and laying in the path near a newly formed plant bed. This façade speaks to a man who cares about his surroundings. It hints that he takes care of his home. Sam parks the truck in the drive near the walkway leading up to the front door. Without looking at her he gets out of the cab in one brisk and efficient movement. A slam of the door and Rachel is alone, her legs still parted, her chest flushed as are her inner thighs except where her wetness is cooling the skin. It is a frozen set of moments, her breath shallow, her heart beating in her ears -- the tick tick of the engine cooling - the sun coming warm in through the windshield - the trees dancing shadows over the lawn -- leaves rustling silently. It slows time and for the second it takes to blink she believes that maybe it is all a sensual dream. Her palms flat against the bench seat smooth over its surface, grounding her here. It is real. This is his truck, his home -- that is her heartbeat, this is her breath. She shifts a little and feels the tension in her knees from keeping her legs spread in this posture. She takes a deep breath and smells him. Where is he? Where has he gone? Sam opens the passenger door and extends his hand. "Come," he offers softly. She lays her hand in his and he gently pulls her towards the door. Her feet find the ground but she is caught on the edge of the seat his body blocking her way. His thumb is softly caressing the back of her hand. She looks straight into his eyes, aware that her chest is heaving a little, that her dress is slightly askew, that he is looking at her. "Sam," Rachel starts but she's interrupted by a slight movement of his head. His eyes feast on her and she holds in her next breath. "You're beautiful," Sam says again, making her all at once shy. "I've never seen anything as beautiful as you are right here, right now." The words wash over her, a warmth spreading stealing her air. She lets him pull her to a standing position, the breeze rustling her skirt a little as she tests her legs to see if they will hold her. She is pressed against him now, so close that she can feel the warmth of his chest through her dress and the sharp hard edge of his belt buckle against her hip. With a sweeping motion Sam reaches behind her and grasps her thighs, pulling her up and open, wrapping her legs around his torso. Rachel's arms encircle his neck, steadying herself against him. A quick step and he moves so that her back is pressed against the side of the truck, his lips seeking hers as his hands knead the backs of her thighs and the round firm flesh of her buttocks. Her pussy is now open for him and as he pushes her back against the truck he can feel her heat through his jeans. She squirms against him; small movements that he knows are pleasuring her clit. He kisses her deep and she mews into his mouth - her body writhing in a vertical lap dance against his groin. "Oh Sam," Rachel gasps still kissing and moving, "I'm so hot. I can't stand it. Take me, please take me." It would be so easy, Sam thinks, reaching with his fingertips for her wet black panties, yearning to yank them aside and violate her. His cock is pulsating once more heading back to full attention. He could fuck her here -- brute force fucking wild and hard out here in the open. His carnal desire drives his hips so that they are dry humping, tongues searching, their bodies moving in rhythm. "Want me to fuck you baby?" he asks, index finger sliding along the crease of her leg, dragging along the edge of her panties, dangerously close to her swollen lips. "Is that what you want? You need my cock, Rachel?" he teases, peeling aside her soaked little pussy covering -- pulling at the sensitive flesh around her mound so that she feels her lips part and cunt split wide. "Yessss, Oh god Yes!" Rachel moans kissing him like a woman gone wild. "Not here" Sam whispers stroking lightly on the outside of her lips. "I want you, all of you. I'm dying to taste your sweet little hot pussy." With that Rachel whimpers, bearing down on him hard tightening her legs around him and clenching her ass cheeks in an effort to drive his finger into her throbbing pink. Sam retracts his hand from her crotch and reaches back untangling her legs from his waist, helping her regain her stance on the ground. Their greedy kisses continue as she steadies herself against him, his hands on her hips roaming over her ass. "Let's go," he urges, taking her hand again leading her up the path to the house. Sam leaves the front door open so that light pours in from the glass screen door. Rachel steps into his cozy front room. Hardwood floors echo as she walks into a small but neatly furnished living room featuring a soft brown leather couch, a plasma TV on the wall, and a large rich rug. On the coffee table are the remnants of this morning's paper, a remote, and a portable phone. It is clean and sparse, a man's room -- functional. Opening off the living room is a hall leading to the back of the house, to the right is a small dining area and a door to the kitchen. Rachel takes in her surroundings, noting the farm table and the smell of coffee and old wood. The calm of lazy light spilling in and the quiet of the house contrasts the high frequency buzz in her body -- a tuning fork struck and vibrating at full intensity. She watches as Sam crosses the room to deposit his keys on the coffee table. His jeans are open, his belt hangs casually, his t-shirt stops just above the line of his boxer briefs. He belongs on a billboard, she thinks - that body, that face, the ease of his movements, his cocky but respectful demeanor all working together to make it impossible to think of anything but sin. She realizes that she's left her purse in the truck. "My purse, I've left it . . ." she begins turning towards the door but Sam is behind her now, his body pressing into her back, his hands on her hips. "I'll get it for you in a little while," he soothes into the back of her hair. Rachel acquiesces, closing her eyes. His hands slide up her body following the curve of her narrow waist, over her rib cage to the underside of her breasts. He follows the contour of her exploring the roundness of her womanly form, the heat of her flesh. He cups her breasts as she leans back against him, his hands full of her full tits holding them so that her nipples stand out proudly. He knows she is aching for him to touch those diamond hard tips but he denies her the pleasure. Her whimper excites him, and his breath becomes husky against the back of her neck as he continues kneading and fondling her through the fabric. His hands move down, over her flat stomach spreading over her hips and down her thighs finding the hem of her slinky black dress. His touch is like a blind man mapping her terrain. Sam's breath moves over her neck, his lips grazing her collar bone. Slowly his fingers begin to rise, gathering the fabric as they ride up grazing her skin. Rachel feels intensely sensual, and she tingles with arousal. Farther and farther up Sam travels, lifting her dress revealing her body while gently sucking her neck. Rounding her tits, he drags his fingers over her nipples as a bolt of lightning shoots down her spine. She gasps and arches, arcing herself towards his touch. 'Ooooooo. You are so sexy," Sam whispers, his tongue wet and warm on the sensitive skin beneath her ear. Lifting her arms she allows him to lift her dress off, peeling it over her head and letting it drop to the floor. Now she stands in her ankle strap heels, her clinging black panties and sheer black bra. Her breasts round dangerously, hard beckoning nipples threatening to tear the fabric. His hands caress her arms working their way back down, featherlike touches which make Rachel shiver and her pink areolas pucker in anticipation. He traces the straps of her bra, over her shoulders then down to the line of the cups into her cleavage. Chest heaving Rachel whimpers. "I love your tits," Sam breathes as his tongue sinks into her ear, fingertips exploring the curving slopes of her breasts, searching for her nipples. "Yeahhhhhh," he breathes hotly squeezing the rosy tips of Rachel's breasts. "So sexy, nipples so hard." He pulls her bra down under her mounds, baring her for his viewing pleasure. Her pert nipples and swollen full breasts delight him, so soft and feminine. Her shallow breathing and whimpering, the sight of her, the smell of her, her 1000 thread count skin all work to make his dick throb and he feels drunk from her. He's kneading her naked breasts now, stroking her nipples- pinching them to hear her sharp intakes of breath. Her hips have begun to sway against his, grinding. Her arms are still raised, draped over his shoulders -- she is defenseless and vulnerable to his touch. He savors the feeling, knowing that he has her, that she is willing and needful -- her responses fueling his own desire. Once again his hands begin to descend, down her belly its downy texture smooth. He grabs her hips and thrusts his pelvis into her mockingly pressing his erection hard into her ass. Her body a playground of firm silky curves -- rounding like flesh pillows. Sam wants to grab and tear in desire. Instead he plays with the top of her panties, loving the way she squirms when his fingers touch the hollow spot near her hip bones. "Hold still, baby, let me touch you," Sam whispers softly onto her neck, his fingers slipping just below the elastic of Rachel's black panties. Her muscles jump as he teases the line of her pelvis. "Let me explore your body, Rachel. It feels so soft, so nice." Slow, so slowly, he begins to peel those panties down -- teasingly pulling at them so that they slide over her hips. Sam brushes the top of her soft tangle of neatly trimmed pubic hair, stretching the fabric so that the elastic tugs at her skin. Her panties are now down to the top of her thighs, and she begins to pant and squirm under his touch. "Spread your legs for me, Rachel. Open yourself so that I can touch you." She widens her stance and slips down his torso a little, granting him better access to her sex. "That's a good girl," he moans as his finger slides tantalizingly over her shaven slit. "Sooo wet, Rachel, your pussy is so wet and hot. It smells so good" "Sam!" she whimpers, trying to be still. "Tell me what you want, baby" he teases, his fingers dancing over her lips inside her partially removed panties. "Touch me!" she moans pleadingly. "I am touching you," he taunts, sliding his middle finger down but not through her lips. "Sink your fingers into me, Sam" Rachel commands urgently "Touch my clit, finger me." Sam's finger slices into her soaking cunt, he traces up and around her clit, avoiding direct contact, slipping down to the rim of her tight little opening. "Mmmmm. That's goood. I want to hear you tell me Rachel. I want to hear all of those naughty words from your beautiful mouth." "Do it! Please!" She moans, her legs shaking with tension -- her body on the brink of losing control. Sam smiles into the nape of her neck as his middle finger slides into her tight hot hole. She gasps as her pussy walls grab his finger and she writhes against his hand. "Oh yesssss!" she hisses "Just like that, stroke my pussy just like that!" The word pussy coming from her electrifies him. Sam's cock throbs, precum oozing. "Feel good, baby?" he taunts as his finger continues its slow exploration -- wiggling deep within her dripping hole, sliding out to dance lightly on her folds, drawing up close to her hard little clit. Her lips, hot and full, are swollen and barely parted - honey juices flowing warm and slick all over her. His free hand continues to play with her panties, pulling at the side, sliding back over the fullness of her hip to round the warm flesh of her ass. Held like this, hands massaging both front and back, Rachel is lost in pleasure. She is dressed, but exposed -- her tits on display, her bra pulled down digging into her. Her panties no longer cover her; they are pulled down to the tops of her legs, the crotch just below her slightly open pussy. She is bared and covered at the same time. The fabric of her lingerie restraining her full nakedness is so wicked. He is playing her just right, just the way she wants it. The hand buried in her sex moves up her bare lips, entangling themselves in the wet little triangular patch of hair at the top of her otherwise hairless pussy. Rachel cries out when he pulls her hair, pulling her lips up and drawing back the hood over her clit. It is exquisite, almost painful -- her pulsing clit now naked to the cool air. With a touch barely more than a whisper Sam's index finger glides over her raw aching button. Her legs shake from the pleasure. The hand on her ass slides around and down reaching between her cheeks, searching for her pussy. Pressure against her anus causes Rachel to buck as Sam's fingers slowly continue to their quest for her hot aching hole. He circles her clit with slippery tight circles, and eases his finger into her again. "Oh fuck Sam, Yes! Touch my clit! I'm soo close, please don't stop. I'll do whatever you want please don't stop!" she screams, her body jerking. "Whatever I want, Rachel?" Sam whispers as he plunges 2 fingers in deep and drags the tip of his finger across her humming clit. "Yes Yessss!" she says breathless, rocking her hips, fucking his hands. "I want to watch you dance for me," he says, releasing her and taking a step back breaking their connection. "Uhhhh!" she cries in protest, straightening to round on him, her eyes wild. "Dance for me," he smiles. "I'm going to watch your body move." Sam's hand, wet from her, moves to his cock. He reaches up and inside his boxers, reaching his hand down to grab his erection, holding it in anticipation. His other hand rests on his chest, underneath his shirt. He holds the pose, waiting for the show. "Damnit!" Rachel yells out, her hands threading through her tousled hair. Her eyes fly up to the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. She is acutely aware of her body, her pussy throbbing, her breasts aching and taught. The insides of her thighs are quivering, her panties down, her tits held suspended by the under wire of her bra. 'So this is how it's going to be then,' she thinks. 'You think you've won, don't you? Oh you're in for it now mister.' "Don't you want me?," she coos, her gaze returning to him. She runs her fingers through her hair. "I'm aching for you, Sam." Her hips moving now, slow writhing as if to a sexy blues song. Her eyes lock into him as she cups her tits, reaching for her pouty pink nipples. She licks her lips and continues to sway, her torso rolling from side to side as she pinches her tips, eyes opening wider at the sensation. She covers her breasts, hiding them from his view, pushing them together so that the sight of her cleavage punishes his cock. "Ohhh yes, I want you," Sam moans, slow stroking his dick. A deviant grin plays on her lips. She turns her body; her panties ½ down her full round ass. Her long legs spread apart, the muscles of her thighs and calves accentuated by the fact that she's standing in heels. Her hips moving like a seductress, she bends forward -- away from him. Her narrow waist makes her curvy bottom look so ripe as she moves that ass. Her hands, still holding her breasts, release the clasp of her bra and she rises slowly. Rachel's long hair cascades down her back, and he watches unable to breathe as the straps of her bra slip down over her bare shoulders. Rachel turns her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her hands move down to play with the sides of her panties, as she slowly shakes her bottom for his viewing pleasure. "Like what you see?" she taunts, easing the black fabric down a little more, dipping her hips and slowly moving her thighs. "You gonna fuck me, Sam? Or are you afraid you can't handle me?" she mocks flirtatiously, her panties sliding down her thighs. "Oooohhhhhhhh," she moans leaning forward as she slides one hand over her ass and down in between her legs. Her fingers snake up and spread her lips -- giving him a good long look at her hot pink cunt coated in juice. "Think you can take it? Wanna take it?" she taunts, stroking her lips. Sam cannot move his hand for fear of erupting again. Rachel moves like a goddess. Her feminine curves, the cashmere quality of her skin, her long wavy hair, her lean muscles shivering make his cock drool in anticipation. Her hot pink sodden cunt and her taunting are like jet fuel for his mind. He holds tight at the base, cutting off the surge, his face tight with the effort of controlling himself. "Ohh yeah, I'm gonna take that pussy," he grunts. A toying smile plays on Rachel's lips. "Know what I want, Sam?" she whispers, shimmying the black panties to the floor. "What baby?" he moans, on the verge of shooting off into his pants. "A drink," she muses, standing and letting her bra fall off her arms. She is naked now, except for her jewelry and her heels. "A wha?" he swallows. "A beverage? I'm thirsty," she says turning back to him with a naughty grin, letting him take in her body. "Got anything to drink around here?" she purrs taking a step forward, stopping just inches from him. "I'll make you a deal, baby," she offers sexily. "You get me something to quench my thirst, and I'll think about letting you fuck me." Rachel bats her eyes as her hand wanders to his cock. "Do we have a deal, Sam?" she toys, her soft full mouth brushing his, her tongue playing upon his lips. . . . To Be Continued . . . What a Sunday Ch. 04 "Miller Lite, Gatorade or tap water? Pick your poison." Sam shouts from the kitchen. She can hear glass clinking from the rushed opening of the refrigerator door. "Ummmm. Beer sounds good." Rachel calls back. Alone in the front room she feels oddly ridiculous. There's no place to put her arms so she lifts them and lightly slaps her thighs over and over while looking around. She looks out the glass door and, to her horror, sees an older model SUV pulling into the drive. 'Holy shit!' she thinks crouching down to cover herself. Now she feels really ridiculous. 'Good one Rachel. Hold still. They'll never notice a naked woman on her haunches. Way to blend,' she chides herself. Standing she bolts down the hallway and into the bedroom at the end of the hall. She leaves the door open just a little, heartbeat thumping in her ears. A few seconds later there's a rap on the door and a loud, "Yo! Sam!" as Travis bursts into the front room. Sam reels around in the kitchen. 'Holy shit!" he thinks, shoving the open beers back into the fridge. The fridge door slams as his hands fly to his pants, zipping up and re-doing his belt, his stiff member caged awkwardly in his jeans. "Hey man! What are you doing here?" Sam asks a little soprano, rounding the doorway from the kitchen -- eyes scanning the room looking for Rachel. Dress, bra, panties lay discarded on the floor, but Rachel is nowhere to be seen. He can smell her, but she is gone. "Dana and I had it out. Goin' fishin'. I called dude, left a message. Get your stuff, man. Let's go!" "Can't, man. Not today," Sam responds right on top of his friend's explanation. Poor Travis is such a self-involved pinhead that he doesn't even notice the evidence that Sam has company. Instead there he stands, shuffling on his feet like a big kid obliviously talking about fishing. "Aw Dude! C'mon. Don't do me like that. She told me to get lost for the day. I can't go home. What else have you got goin'? I already bought the beer!" "I gotta help a friend." "Yeah. That's right! Me." "Noooo. Not you. Your gonna have to get someone else to help you stay clear of Dana." Rachel smiles from behind the bedroom door. The big goofy guy in the front room doesn't seem to know how to take no for an answer. Her body reacts to the coolness of the wooden door and she shivers. She looks around. In the corner next to the nightstand there's a wooden chair. On the back of the chair is a blue jean shirt. Rachel walks over and grabs it, pulling it on. She buttons just one button midway down. She sits on the bed and removes her shoes so that she doesn't make noise on the hardwood floors. The bed is dressed in a down camp blanket which feels comforting to the backs of her legs. After removing her heels she eases back against the pillows, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankles. She rests her arms across her belly. Her heart rate is still elevated and she feels anxious from almost getting busted. She giggles nervously to herself at the sudden realization that she has left her clothes strewn across the floor in the entryway. The pillow smells of man sleep and cologne. The shirt covers her mid thigh. It is old, broken-in, and wonderfully big on her. There are small holes around the pocket edges and along the shirt tails. A ceiling fan rotates lazily above the bed stirring the air. Goose bumps rise on her legs and her breasts react once more. She needs his heat. Voices come from the other room, along with footsteps then the sound of the screen door shutting. Once again she is suspended in quiet and alone with her body responses. Calming down now she realizes that such a prolonged state of anxiousness and arousal has made her weary. She sighs to herself, releasing built up tension. Minutes pass. Rachel stares out the window, her unfocused eyes attracted to the light. Trees rustle outside the window blinds. The balmy morning is giving way to a windy clear day. The bed is soft. It is peaceful here. The quiet whirring buzz of the fan, the whistling of the leaves in the wind soothes her. Her lids feel heavy and she doesn't fight them. "Take it." "You sure, dude? That's like a brand new $300 rod-n-reel." "Take it, Travis! Just get the hell outa here already, I've got to get goin'." "Alrighty then. Man, thanks," Travis says taking the fishing pole and heading back to lift the hatch of his SUV. "I'll call ya later and tell you if the fish are bitin'. Better yet, you call me and tell me if the bitin's better over here." "Beg pardon?" Sam asks narrowing his eyes. "Dude! Unless you've turned freaky there's someone in there missin' her clothes. And your house has never smelled that good. I'm not the brightest of the bunch, but I ain't dead!" Travis closes the hatch a shit eating grin spread all over his face. "Asshole," Sam quips shaking his head. "That's what Dana says too," Travis laughs stuffing himself behind the wheel. "Need any help in there, buddy? I can always go fishing later." "Shit you will," Sam laughs turning back for the door. This time upon entering Sam closes and locks the front door. Rachel is still nowhere to be seen but a quick look down the hall shows his bedroom door almost closed. Sam toes off his boots leaving them by the front door then heads into the kitchen to retrieve the beers. His pulse quickens knowing she is there naked in his bedroom. He pads down the hallway and nudges the door open with his elbow. There she is on his bed. She is lying on her side facing the window, knees slightly bent, her bare feet crossed, hands tucked sweetly between her legs. She's in his workshirt, the one he uses for doing the yard, the tail just covering her ass. She's fallen asleep. Carmel light pours over her from the window, dust dancing in the streams. Her long hair fans across his pillow. Her body rises and falls from her slow deep breathing. He'd wanted her in his bed since the moment he'd seen her but looking at her now Sam could only stare. She was so unbelievably sexy, even in her sleep. She looked almost childlike curled up that way, her beautiful face serene. He doesn't have the heart to wake her. Sam steps quietly to the bedside table next to the chair. Quietly he puts down the 2 Miller Lites in front of the alarm clock. He reaches up and grabs the back of his t-shirt pulling it up over his head. Next he takes care to hold the belt buckle so that it will not clink as he undoes it and slides it out of his belt loops. Silent, except for the sound of the zipper teeth releasing, he removes his jeans. Gently stroking her hair from the pillow he carefully slides in behind her in his boxer briefs and socks. He spoons up to her, conforming his body to her soft backside. Her legs are cool. Her hair smells like flowers and vanilla. He slowly slides his arm around her midriff. Rachel awakes to the feel of his warmth against her skin and the heaviness of his arm around her. "Mmmmmmmmm there you are," she whispers dreamily. "Didn't mean to wake you," he whispers back. "You just looked so good. I wanted to be next to you." Rachel takes a hand from between her legs and reaches for his arm. She caresses in a downward motion covering his hand, threading her fingers through his. It is an intimate gesture. "I borrowed your shirt." "I see that." He muses, poking his nose into the soft tangle of hair at the nape of her neck, breathing in. "Hope you don't mind." "I'll put it on your tab," he teases, squeezing her slightly, snuggling in tighter. Rachel giggles her eyes still closed. "You feel good, Sam." "You feel like heaven, Rachel." Sam sighs into her neck. They lay there a while in stilled silence. Neither wanted to be the first to move; knowing that the air was statically charged with sexual energy. One muscle twitch and it was going to ignite. A small bit of pressure, a pushing, a lip's caress of neck flesh is all it would take. Genitals absorb the tension as blood rushes and throbs. Rachel is acutely aware of Sam's stiff rod against her ass. Its insistent heat pressing into her makes her want to push back and squirm. Her eyes closed, she concentrates on syncing her breathing to his to fight her urges. Sam can feel the fastened metal button under his palm -- the one thing keeping him from the nirvana underneath. Rachel's round butt is torturing his dick with its firm curving softness. Her hair is tickling his cheek, her perfume mixed with the warm smell of her feminine skin threatens to drive him insane. "It's hard to be still, isn't it Sam?" Rachel whispers seductively. "God yessss," he hisses into her neck. "I dare you to move." "Ladies first," Sam winces. "Age before beauty," she mocks like a child making him smile from within. "Know what happens to teasing little girls?" "Show me." Her hand still covering his; he moves down to grab her thigh. Using it for leverage he thrusts his cock against her buttocks as he bites into to the nape of her neck. "They get punished, Rachel." "Mmmmmmm yess, Sam. Punish me!" she moans writhing her hips, moving up and down the length of him. Releasing her leg Sam frees his hand and lifts his hip to yank down his boxers to his knees. Next he pulls up the tail of the denim shirt, so that they are skin to skin. Reaching down he grabs his aching shaft at the base and slides it between the silky inferno at the top of her thighs where he's met with the liquid lava of her juices and the spongy flesh of her pussy lips. Using his ass like a slow piston he slides up then back, pumping against her as she moans. His arm once again encircles her, although this time his touch is lower. His fingers ease over her pubic hair, finding the sticky and wet patch then the hot erupting slit beyond. His middle finger delves into her sex as his index and ring finger split her lips. Teasing her clit with light circular patterns of his middle finger, Sam's cock continues its mock fuck, rubbing and pulling at her sex from behind. His position is such that he will not enter her without assistance. Rachel squeezes her thighs together in an attempt to grab his cock while her hips squirm. Girl-like whimpers escape her as she moves against his hand. "It aches, oh god its aching. Thrust your cock into my aching pussy!" she moans loudly. "That's it baby, tell me," Sam growls like a predator rewarding her naughty words with careful attention to her clit. "Baby, please fuck me! I need to cum all over your dick. Feed my pussy. Stretch me - fill me with your big cock! I need to feel you inside me, Sam." Squelching sounds now intermingle with Rachel's pleas and whimpers. Her wetness coats his rod and gathers in a frothy mess at his base. It's dripping over his balls and is smeared all over her ass. Sam's fingers are drenched and he lifts his hand to his mouth to taste her. Sucking loudly he moans. "Mmmmmm, so sweet. You taste so sweet, Rachel." His words are more than she can bear. Springing up, her legs tugging then releasing his cock so that it slaps back against his abdomen, she spins to face him pushing him back flat on the bed. Left leg planted near his right shoulder Rachel swings her body over him straddling Sam's upper body. Staring into his eyes, Rachel reaches up to undo the single button on the denim shirt. She pulls it open, revealing her tits and the long expanse of belly ending in her matted pubic hair. Slowly she begins to spread her legs further, sliding her dripping cunt ever closer to his mouth. "You want to taste my sweet pussy?" she says wickedly, undulating just above him. "Lick it, Sam. I want your mouth on me." Sam, for once, complies. Lifting his head he slips the flat of his tongue in a swirling pattern around her hole then up through her pink. Rachel's body quakes as he connects with her erect red little clitoris. Slowly he licks up over her hood, outlining her folds with his skilled and patient tongue. Her juices pour into his mouth and spill over his lips. "Mmmmmmmmm," he moans into her as his tongue continues his exploration. "You like that, sweet girl?" Sam coaxes spilling hot breath all over her glistening inner walls. "God yesss!" she moans throwing her head back thrusting her pussy into his mouth. His lips connect and he uses them to softly caress her clit -- denying her the hot tongue she seeks. Easing his head back from her he continues his breath play. "Such a sweet hot little slit," he sighs onto her clit, making her inner thighs shake. "Eat me!" she commands. Reaching up to cup her ass Sam pulls her into his open mouth, using hand fulls of her ass flesh to guide her onto his tongue. His hold is almost brutal as he tongue fucks her quivering hole. His nose bumps her clit rhythmically causing her to moan. "Ohhh fuck, Sam! What are you doing to me?! Ahhh yeah that's feels good. Feels so fucking good," Rachel moans. She feels his grip on her ass ease. He strokes her; his fingers pulling her ass cheeks apart. Fingertips slip dangerously close to her forbidden, pulling at her skin, circling. She feels two fingers at the top of her crack start to descend, slipping in her wetness down over her rosebud with slight pressure. Sam's tongue buried to the hilt in her pussy and his fingers exploring her ass make it hard for her to breathe. His fingers move further, pressing against the skin between her cunt and her bottom as his head comes up for air. "So naughty," Sam coaxes taking a deep breath and readjusting his mouth under her dripping sex. With each word Sam's lips graze her clit. "But you liked it, didn't you Rachel? You're a naughty girl." he teases against her pleasure button, his fingers stroking her taint. "No," she whimpers weakly, trying hard not to scream from pleasure. "Ooohhhhhhhhhh yessss you did," Sam chides, lips closing around her clit as one hand slips back up to press its knuckles against her tight puckered hole and the other hand slides down pushing its first 2 fingers deep into her cunt. "Yessssssss!" Rachel wails, ass tightening pussy convulsing. "Tell me you're a naughty girl, Rachel," Sam grunts. Rachel whimpers in protest. "Please! Nooo," she pleads grinding against the multiple pleasure spots Sam is controlling. She is so close but he is a master of denying her the continuous pressure it would take to send her over the edge. Even now on the brink of her well deserved orgasm he is toying with her. His lust for her surrender, to hear her submit to the wicked things he is doing to her makes each touch all the more intense. Her refusal to utter the words is her only hope of keeping any control. She will not offer it, she will make him take it. All at once Rachel's legs scissor moving her up and back - away from his taunting mouth. His fingers slip out of her, his knuckles bump against her right butt cheek. In the lithe movement of a gymnast Rachel leans in supporting herself on her hands placed at just above his shoulders as her straddling thighs slide down his body until she has positioned herself at the top of his cock. Shirt open, breasts pressing against his torso, Rachel's hair hangs down brushing against his neck. Looking at him, enjoying his look of surprise at the sudden heat now taunting his prick, Rachel lowers her mouth and kisses him. Her mouth and tongue suck her juices from his lips. Soft mewing noises escape her lips as she eagerly licks her own essence from his mouth. Her hungry wet soft mouth on his sends Sam over the edge. His legs rise in an effort to impale her on his cock. He wants to feel her pussy lips stretch wide and take him. Rachel reacts without breaking the kiss. Her back rounds and she slides her pussy forward onto his stomach, denying him while at the same time pleasing her clit as she smears nectar all over his belly. Sam's legs, still restrained by the boxer briefs at his knees, relent and he growls into their kiss. Rachel's hands slide down his arms grabbing his wrists. She pulls them up over his head, gently pinning him to the bed. Her thighs squeeze his hips as she rocks up and back, masturbating her open pussy on his pelvis. "Fuck me, Rachel!" Sam hisses insistently into her open mouth, his hips rising. "Say please," she mocks, using her legs to absorb his movements. "Please, fuck me, Rachel. I need you so bad. Give me your hot tight little pussy." He begs, crooning, kissing her softly now. "Oooooh Sam," Rachel sighs, losing her resolve to the tenderness in his voice. Her grip on his wrists loosens and she reaches in to cup his face returning the tender kiss. His hands now free, Sam slides his hands down Rachel's body grabbing her hips firmly. To her surprise he pushes her hips back, sliding her pussy over his dick in one fluid motion. His thick shaft is enveloped by her hot folds, wetness soaking him. His head pushes hard against the rounded top of her pussy. Rachel's ass tightens as she attempts to wiggle free of his grasp. Her soft breasts and hard nipples mash against his chest. Her moaning little pleas as she struggles to move off his cock drive him wild with primitive lust. Sam rips his mouth from hers. "Take my cock, Rachel!" he groans sliding her forward, his head seeking her opening. Rachel's legs are like a vice, resisting as he slowly thrusts her hips back penetrating her. Sam can feel her tight little pussy open enough to accept the tip of his head then stretch taughtly over his full helmet. Guiding her hips, her box like an oven, Sam feels the walls of her pussy ripple as she grants his shaft entrance. "Ohhh god Baby give it to me!" he moans as her sex muscles tug at his head, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her. Her walls hug against every inch of his thick cock, massaging him with their spasms. Rachel's breath catches as his head stretches the skin around her hole. She continues her squirming resistance but Rachel's pussy slowly swells full of cock and the exquisite feeling of fullness makes her scream in pleasure. His swollen head sinks ever deeper and she feels her sex spasm against its intruder. In all her life, she can never remember a feeling this good. His dick is so thick and hot and hard, its slow descent into her depths so fulfilling, his hands on her hips so strong and forceful. Sam is taking her just the way she's always wanted. It's so fucking good. Pushing his hips up to meet her, Sam eases her back until he hits bottom. Rachel's wiggling ass pumps at his root, rocking his balls. Sex juice oozes out of her hole as he fills her. He pulls her forward, dragging her open cunt across his pelvis as his cock is unsheathed. Again he pushes her down, this time harder - splitting her lips open and stuffing her. Her writhing continues and he has to hold her hips to keep her twitching little pussy impaled. "Ooooooooooooo Baby that tight pussy's soooo good!" Sam moans rising and bucking again and again into her hot quivering hole. Rachel can feel her orgasm mounting. A few more slow thrusts is all it takes. As his head knocks against her cervix Rachel's pussy explodes. "Fuck yeah Baby! Ohhhhh! You're making me cum all over your cock!" she yells as her cunt sucks ravenously on his meat. Her body convulses and she grinds down hard, squirming back and forth, her slit gushing cum with him buried to the hilt. "Rachel Baby, don't do that," Sam grunts, his dick lost in bliss. "Your milking my cock, baby, and its gonna cum. Rachel, god baby, I can't hold it! You gotta stop or I'm gonna cum in your pussy! You're gonna make me cum in you! You want it,naughty girl? You want my cum up in that naughty little hole?" "YESSS!" Rachel screams, orgasm still gripping her body as she bucks mercilessly on his dick. Sam's balls, jiggling from her tight little jerks at his base, tingle and constrict and he can feel his seed surging into his shaft. Deep inside her his head seizes. "Ahhh yeah! Take it all, baby!" he yells as his dick explodes pumping warm thick spurts of semen into her depths. His muscles contract hard as she rides him, her pussy rippling and sucking his cock dry.