1 comments/ 24324 views/ 4 favorites Skinny Bitch Ch. 01 By: sixyjackoffpot I had never seen such a sexy, skinny little bitch in my entire life. It was so unfair. From the minute she walked in the office for her first interview, I knew I had to have her. She made my pulse race and my face burn and my cock throb with longing- and this when she was fully clothed, blissfully unaware that I even existed. Didn't help any that she was to be my new secretary after the previous one quit. The new girl interviewed with my boss first, that was when I saw her. She haunted my thoughts and I woke up with fevered wet dreams of her every morning. A week later, she came back to interview with me. Part of me felt like a boy in grade school about to talk to his crush. She was the one being interviewed, but I was nervous. Why was I so nervous? Because just thinking about her gave me a raging hard-on and I wasn't sure that I could do the interview without making an ass of myself. Now, I'm a decent-looking man. I work out, I'm pretty muscular. Women flirt with me a lot, and I'm never hurting for dates. I'm very confident with women. So it wasn't a self-esteem thing, I had just never been so completely turned on by any woman before. I jerked off before I went to work and twice in the men's room during the morning before the interview. Finally, the time came. I sat down at my desk, shuffling papers while the blood pounded in my ears as I waited for her. She approached the doorway somewhat timidly. I looked up. She wore a gauzy, pale pink dress that clung to her delicate little legs and thin arms. Her tiny feet were cradled in a pair of white stilettos. Despite her skinniness, she had a decent pair of tits and a miraculously flattering push-up bra. Her cleavage was a soft contrast to the sharpness of her collar bones which disappeared once again under her dress. Around her neck was a simple gold necklace. Her wispy blonde hair was piled stylishly on top of her head with a few strands framing her face. All over, her skin was deeply tanned. She smiled hesitantly. I smiled back, unrestrained, and she seemed to relax. "Please come in, sit down," I said, gesturing expansively at the chair in front of my desk. She did as she was told and slipped a copy of her resume in front of me. My boss had already told me that she was more than qualified, so I simply glanced over it, preoccupied by her presence. "Tracy Banks," I read out loud. Finally, a name for that beautiful face. "Well, Tracy, my name is Jack McCall. Nice to meet you." I held out my hand to her. Tremulous smile still plastered to her face, she took my hand. The air conditioning in the office had chilled her considerably and her fragile hands were like ice. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. McCall," she said in a sweet, breathy voice. I realized that I was still holding her hand. I let go and she looked away in endearing girlish embarrassment. "Please, call me Jack. As a designer, I'm pretty informal around here. Look, my boss told me all about you. I'm very impressed with your resume, and I think you're perfect for this position." Tracy flushed with pleasure. "This interview is really just a formality- tradition, really. When are you available to start?" "Oh, right away! Today if you want!" She smiled hugely, barely able to contain her surprise and excitement. "That's great, I'd love to show you around a bit." I stood up and she stood with me. We left the office together and I gave her a brief tour, describing her mundane daily duties, and occasionally letting my hand linger on her shoulder or the small of her back. She listened with rapt attention, gazing up at me with her huge, dark eyes, and I could barely look away from them. It seemed the interest was mutual, unless my lust had completely fogged my senses. After an hour or so of mind-numbing business chat, we returned to my office. She agreed to start bright and early the next day. I loved my work, I felt privileged to get paid so well to make art, but the day-to-day drudgery of the last eight years had taken some of the fun out of it. As I showered that morning, I realized that I was looking forward to going to work that day more than I had in years. Of course it was because of Tracy. I couldn't get her out of my head. As I put on my suit and tie and just a touch of cologne, all I could think of was seeing her again. When I got off the elevator, she was already there, sitting at the desk outside my office, thumbing through a stack of papers. Today she wore a low-cut dress of blue and green, with big hoop earrings and a headband. She smiled broadly when she looked up and saw me. "Good morning Mr. McCall," she crooned, rising as I approached. "Good morning Tracy. You look very nice today." "Oh thank you Mr. McCall," she giggled humbly. "Please, call me Jack," I said firmly, "I feel so old when people call me mister." "Okay... Jack." Tracy bit her lip and sat down again as I went in to my office. Trying to get any work done that morning was like trying to concentrate on broccoli with an enormous chocolate cake sitting right in front of you: almost impossible. I kept glancing out of the door at the delicate blonde answering my phone and making my appointments. All I could think of was how cold her little hands had been the day before. After an hour or so, I saw her pause to hug herself and rub her bare arms for warmth. I went out to her desk, removing my suit jacket, and handed it to her. "What should I do with this?" she asked, genuinely confused. "Do you need it dry-cleaned?" "No," I laughed, "wear it. You're freezing in here. They always keep the thermostat so low." "Oh no, I'm fine," she said, embarrassed, but she clung to the jacket anyway. "Please, I insist," I insisted, draping it around her bony little shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. The jacket, tailored to fit my broad chest and shoulders, swallowed her small frame. She turned her head to look at me and placed her hands over mine on her shoulders. Her touch was electrifying. I almost kissed her right there, but I didn't want the whole office to see. I had a throbbing boner as well. So I cleared my throat and beat a hasty retreat to my office, shutting the door abruptly behind me. I contemplated jacking off at my desk, but not five minutes later there came a knock at the door. "Come in," I said. Tracy walked in and shut the door behind herself, leaning against it. "Can I... do anything for you, Jack?" She bit her bottom lip suggestively, my cock twitched with approval. "Well, there is something here behind my desk that I'm having trouble with. And I think you're just the girl to fix it." Tracy came to me with all the grace of a cat, and a wild hunger in her eyes. I slid back from my desk in my cushy chair and she straddled me, lifting her skirt. She had no underwear on and she was already wet and shaking as I pulled her in and kissed her hard. With one hand I groped her ass, with the other I unzipped my trousers and unleashed my cock. She slid down on to me with a gasp. "You're so big," she whispered, grinning as she pressed her hipbones against me, then settled in to a steady up-and-down motion. We were both already so hot, and she was so tight, it was over in a few minutes. She came forcefully, stifling her moans as best she could in to soft whines and panting, and she rode me until I finished as well. She collapsed against my chest for a moment to catch her breath, then she pulled me out of her hot little cunt and stood up. Her legs wobbled slightly as she headed for the door. "Hey, ah... Tracy, do you want to go to dinner tonight?" I asked before she opened the door. "Sure thing, boss," she purred, then she went back to work as if nothing had happened. Skinny Bitch Ch. 02 What can I say? Tracy was absolutely perfect. She was a wonderful secretary, she was a great fuck, and best of all she was discreet. One minute she could be sucking my cock, the next she could be smiling and schmoozing the CEO. I think our relationship gave her extra confidence around the office, as most of her timidity melted away in a week or so. Her thinness wasn't the only thing about her that I liked. Though the initial attraction was purely physical, after a few dates I realized that I actually liked her as a person as well. She had a wicked sense of humor, and she aimed to please without acting too insecure. She was terribly insecure of course but she did her best to hide it. She was needy but not overbearing or controlling. And best of all she had a voracious sexual appetite- just like me. We usually exchanged oral at work and saved fucking for dates. My favorite thing to do was take her to dinner. I just loved the way she would squirm and order a salad and just push it around the plate. There was a man playing piano nice and quiet. The restaurant was lit with a dreamy yellow candlelight. I could not take my eyes off of Tracy. Her pale blonde hair caught the light and framed her face with a halo. Her eyes sparkled. She wore a slinky teal tube dress and no bra, just the amazing breasts that I fairly worshiped. "What're you looking at, Jack?" she asked, leaning forward to give me a better view of her cleavage. "You, of course." Tracy broke in to a huge grin. I felt her toes rubbing my ankle under the table. My dick was at attention and I could see the blush in her cheeks and she was breathing a bit faster. She stood up and grabbed my hand, heading for the bathroom. I'd never had sex in a public bathroom before, much less at a swanky restaurant, but I wasn't about to refuse her either. She chose the men's room and pulled me in to a stall. I fumbled the lock shut. She undid my pants and crouched on the floor in front of me. She generously lubed my dick with saliva, tonguing my balls while she was at it, then took my whole dick in her mouth until the tip pressed the back of her throat. "Oh fuck, yes," I groaned, raking one hand through her perfectly coiffed hair. One of Tracy's hands gently massaged my balls while she worked my dick with her mouth. She sucked me expertly, up and down, pausing to lick precum off her lips and give my dick a break. She went for the deep throat again and choked a little, then she finished me off with her lips almost as tight as her sweet cunt. "I'm about to come," I mumbled. She kept sucking and swallowed my load hungrily, giving me a wicked little grin as she tenderly tucked my cock back in to my pants. "I'm so fucking wet," she said in a hoarse voice, pressing her frail body against me. We kissed deeply. "Let's go back to the apartment." As we left the restaurant, I left a bunch of cash on the table. We were only a few blocks from my building but we took a cab in the interest of expediency. She groped me the entire time, and once again I left a ridiculous amount of cash and we raced inside to my apartment. I threw her down on the sofa and as I removed her tight red dress I ripped it. Her shaky little fingers managed to get off my jacket, tie, and belt, but I had to help with the pants. She flopped back on the couch, bucking her hips forward. "Ohhh god yes, Jack, fuck me!" she cried, sliding my dick in to her slick, hot pussy. I thrust in to her as hard as I could and she cried out, thrusting back. We settled in to a rhythm, and as she began to moan she arched her back and showed me her ribs and her beautiful pillowy tits, bouncing as we fucked. I reached down and rubbed her clit and she spasmed with ecstasy, taking my dick with her as her hips rocked and the bones pressed in to me. "God DAMMIT," yelled Tracy as she came, throwing her head back in pleasure. I came right afterward, and we collapsed together on the sofa, spooning. She snuggled close to me, pressing her ass against my soft cock. I wrapped my strong arms around her bony frame and held her tight. Drifting in a post-coital haze, I kissed her neck and murmured, "I think you're fucking perfect." "I think you are too," she sighed, contented. Skinny Bitch Ch. 03 One weekend I took Tracy shopping. She absolutely loved clothes, and she mesmerised me so completely that I could watch her try them on all day long. It was a sweltering, humid day in mid-August. She was wearing a wispy designer babydoll dress with no sleeves or straps. The bustline hugged her breasts appreciatively, allowing a generous amount of her impossible cleavage to peek out on top. The material flowed away from her ribcage and down to mid-thigh, where her stick-thin yet shapely legs emerged, culminating in six-inch high wedge sandals. Her tiny arms and frail shoulders were completely bare and I caught more than one woman glaring at her in envy and disgust. Those huge dark eyes hid behind giant sunglasses that dwarfed her face. She sipped petulantly on an iced coffee drink as we wandered from shop to shop, peering in the windows at almost every one until she decided where to go first. "That dress is so cute," she cried, trotting right up to the window and pressing her hands against the glass. "Why don't we go in?" Just imagining her in the form-fitting, bright yellow affair she was admiring was a treat in itself and I hoped to see her try it on. "That store doesn't carry small enough sizes," she pouted, stepping back. "Let's go across the street." We went in to the other store and she made an inordinately large selection of outfits, intending to put on a show for me. I took "the boyfriend seat" outside the fitting room and waited. She emerged in a succession of sexy and colorful garments, ranging from casual to black-tie wear. Half of them fit her beautifully and half of them were just a scoche too big on her, a fact that she declared loudly every time in exaggerated frustration, "Augh, I'm just too small for this!" Finally, she settled on half a dozen of her favorite well-fitting pieces, we paid, and left. I carried the bags in one hand and she held the other. More than once I noticed her staring at other women and she would squeeze my hand possessively. Once she even demanded, "Were you checking her out!?" I said no, of course not, and it was true; no other woman compared to her in the least. How can one admire a Thomas Kinkade with a Caravaggio in his possession? We strolled around for another half hour or so, but between the heat and humidity my dear Tracy was worn out. She suddenly stopped mid-stride, panting softly as she clung to my arm. "Babe, what's wrong?" I saw her sway a bit, then she collapsed against me. I dropped the bags and held her up. "Oh, Jack, I need to sit down," she cooed, gripping my shirt as I guided her to a bench. She sat down, fanning herself weakly . I stroked her hair, dumbfounded by this episode and, frankly, a little aroused as she was pawing at me and panting in my ear. After a minute, overwhelmed now with the heat in the air and in my crotch, I said, "Maybe we should head home." "I think we should," she agreed, resting her head on my shoulder, her hand on my thigh, leaning over to lick my ear and blow on my neck. I hailed a cab, and Tracy was so weak she could hardly stand up on her own. She leaned on me and I helped her in to the cab, and at the last minute remembered the bags I had dropped. I grabbed them and got in. Inside the car, she seemed to revive a bit with the air conditioning. We weren't very far from my apartment, so it wasn't long before I carried her inside and laid her down on the bed. She beckoned me to her and slid both hands around me to pull me down for a kiss. I felt a bit guilty fo it, but I couldn't help being turned on by her anyway. For some reason, her weakened condition was even more desirable to me. I climbed on to the bed and straddled her, removing my jeans swiftly. She, of course, wore no underwear and I was only slightly surprised to find her very much wet and ready to go. It seemed that she had enjoyed the scene as much as I had, and that made me even hotter. I slipped the dress off of her and massaged her tits as we kissed. I could feel the heat between her legs. I gave one of her nipples a gentle bite, then shoved my dick inside. We fucked a while, and just as I could tell by the noises she made that she was near the edge, I pulled out. "Wha-... whatcha doing, Jacky?" I plunged down on to her clit for an answer and shoved three fingers in the hot, slick mess of her cunt. She moaned deeply and arched her back, pressing herself in to me as I sucked. I licked all around her pristinely shaved labia, shoving my tongue in to her vagina. All the while Tracy squirmed, her thin fingers raking through my hair, gripping it as I brought her again to the edge of orgasm. Then I stopped. She was shaking, her breasts heaving with every breath, her doe eyes half-closed with fatigue and lust. Her lips were parted as she stared at me, begging wordlessly for me to finally finish her off. I kissed her again, and she grabbed my cock. She guided my dick inside her tight pussy and I lost all control- I started ramming her as hard as I dared. She whimpered at first, then cried out- in pain or pleasure I couldn't tell. And I didn't care. I pounded her until the bed was knocking against the wall and she was wailing my name with both legs wrapped around my waist. I came, then slumped down on the bed next to her. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, her eyes just barely open. "You're a fucking animal," she breathed, running her trembling fingers through my hair. I laughed and pulled her close, burying my face in her glorious tits. She was bleeding a bit between the legs from the force of my fuck. "And you are the girl of my dreams," I said, kissing the nearest breast to my face and giving the nipple an affectionate little suck. "I know we've only been together a few months, but I think it'd be a lot of fun to live together." "Do you really mean it Jack? I'd love to!" she cried, kissing me. I kissed back and wrapped my arms around her, hardly able to believe what I'd just said. I enjoyed having my own space, of course, but it was Tracy. I'd do anything for her, I'd do anything to be with her more. It seemed a small sacrifice to be with her every day. Of course, we saw each other at work, too, but that was mostly business. Mostly. Skinny Bitch Ch. 04 Tracy was my obsession, my love. She was all I thought about and all I wanted. She was my Muse, my Aphrodite; the Hera to my Zeus; the Delilah to my Samson. She was the fruit which I had been forbidden my entire life, and now, suddenly, I was glutted with it. I could have as much as I wanted and more, and more, and I was so happy that I felt like I was drowning. I was afraid that once Tracy moved in, the relationship might cool off, we'd get used to each other, things would go stale. Seeing each other at work all day and then coming home together seemed like it might suffocate us. I regretted asking her to move in, but I knew if I recanted she would go berserk. My periods of doubt were frequent but brief, and interspersed with periods of absolute certainty. In two weeks she had broken the lease on her apartment and moved in. Her crackle-painted Louis XV chairs harmonized strangely with my sleek black Italian leather sofa. Her wardrobe astounded me. There were half a dozen duffel bags full of shoes and a small mountain of stylish, designer clothes in the middle of the living room. We'd spent the whole weekend moving her in. It was Sunday night. We'd finally finished getting the last few boxes and collapsed together on the couch, nestled in amongst a tulle petticoat and a bag of bathrobes. For a moment, I felt cold and numb; terrified, really. What the hell was I thinking... there was no way this could work... my god, she's here, she lives here now, she lives in my apartment... what the hell did I do? Then she wound both of her little arms around my arm and pecked my cheek. All of my doubts melted away in a warm haze, and I pulled her close. She slid in to my lap and rested against my chest. "Welcome home," I told her, grinning. She laughed a little. I put my hands around her waist to meet at the base of spine where I could feel her vertebrae. She ground her hips down in to my hard cock and I could feel the heat of her cunt even through my pants. I undid her cutoffs and she obliged, pushing them down around her knees, taking off her tube top. Then I took off my shirt, and undid my jeans and slid out of them. Then she kissed me aggressively, twisting around in my lap to straddle me. Tracy fucked me in her pussy a little bit, then she stood up, pushing the clothes out of the way. She got on the couch on all fours and presented her ass to me obligingly. I couldn't resist licking her hot pussy first, then I drew my tongue down the smooth skin between pussy and ass. I held on to her bony hips with both hands, tonguing her asshole to relax her a bit. She leaned back into it a little, trembling in anticipation. I lubed my dick generously, then eased it in to her ass. She gasped at the pain, but as I started fucking her, she started to moan with pleasure. Her pussy was tight and she was a wonderful fuck, but fucking her in the ass took me to new dimensions of pleasure. Every thrust of my cock in the vicelike grip of her rectum sent a gut-wrenching wave of ecstasy through my body. Tracy seemed torn between torture and enjoyment, gasping while her ribs flared and her pussy was so wet it leaked down her legs and on the couch while her fingernails dug in. We climaxed at the same time, me with an animal grunt and she with a throaty, "Yesss." Then her frail arms and legs gave out beneath her and she collapsed, curling up on the couch in her own vaginal secretions, panting. I grabbed a robe from a nearby pile and threw it over us as I squeezed in beside her, stroking her divinely concave stomach, the prominence of her ribcage, and her perversely large, perfect breasts. It wasn't long before she fell asleep. I could feel myself drowsing, but I was determined to wake up in my bed with my woman beside me. So I got up, and gathered her featherweight body in my arms. She snuggled against me, and if I woke her she pretended I didn't. I tucked her in, then crawled in to bed beside her, spooning her, and fell asleep more contented than I could ever remember being. She awoke me the next morning by kissing me and stroking my dick. I was a little confused at first, then the whole bizarre reality of it all came rushing back. "Good morning babe," I murmured, kissing her. "Time for breakfast," she declared softly, and she disappeared under the covers. First she kissed my nipples, then I felt her soft little tongue sliding up and down my dick while one of her hands massaged my balls. The other hands wrapped around my waist and I felt her fingers dig in to the small of my back as she took my dick in to her mouth. Her tongue swirled gently as she went up and down, pausing to rest her cheek on my inner thigh, running her fingers along my veiny shaft, then she licked my balls and took my dick back in her mouth. Her lips were perfectly tight and wet, and after I came in her mouth she swallowed and gave me a few bonus sucks. Then she re-emerged from the blankets, her eyes shining and her face flushed from the heat. "Good christ," I whispered. "That was incredible." "You're welcome," she mewled, kissing me again so deeply that I got a taste of my own semen. She laid there a moment longer, stroking my hair as I held her. Then she hopped out of bed, glorious in her nakedness. I admired the sway of her tits, and the tilt of her hips, and the gap between her legs as she prowled to the bathroom, then out to the living room to rifle through her clothes and get ready for work. I was sorely tempted to call in sick, but if Tracy did too it would look very bad, and if she didn't there was no point for me to. So I luxuriated for a few more minutes in the warm, soft bed, in the afterglow of orgasm, then I followed Tracy's example and started getting ready for work. Skinny Bitch Ch. 05 It never occurred to me that what Tracy did to herself was bad for her. I had always been attracted to thin women, had always dated skinny girls. Tracy was by far the skinniest of any woman I'd ever dated, I don't think she'd ever been over a hundred pounds in her life, and she was under eighty by the time she moved in with me. She liked to play at fainting, as I discovered that one hot, sunny day while we were out shopping. I think she enjoyed being perceived as weak; it gave her control over others. She certainly had me in the palm of her hand, and when she feigned illness in public, people fawned over her, did things for her, petted and soothed her. I suppose for someone like Tracy, the adoration of one doting boyfriend can never be enough. Tracy needed the whole world to adore her. For the most part, people regarded her with indifference, suspicion, disgust, or pity; but when she swooned, it was all solicitousness and kindness. Now that we lived together and worked together, I almost never spent time away from her, and Tracy liked it that way. She was jealous and territorial to the point of irrationality, but I was so hypnotized by her that I didn't care. I'd do anything for her, anything to mollify her, anything to reassure her that I wanted no one else- because I didn't. Truly, normal female bodies had lost their appeal for me. I craved Tracy's bones and concave stomach; the music of her ribcage juxtaposed with her incongruous fake breasts, so round and large they looked to topple her frail body; and the poetry of the lines in her face defying the huge, dark pools of her eyes. Her collar bones haunted my dreams. Her proximity to me was inversely proportional to my ability to concentrate on anything else. I don't think she knew the extent of her sway over me. Or perhaps she did, but she was still too insecure to be satisfied. We clung to each other. It was practically obscene. You would think that two people would get sick of being around one another constantly, all day, every day, but even after three months of flirting and trading lewd stares at work all day and fucking like animals at night, showering together and eating together (or not eating, as it were), Tracy and I never got sick of each other. Our one year anniversary was approaching. One year since she'd fucked me at my desk the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago, or just yesterday. The time had slipped by so fast, yet who was that man named Jack that did not know this girl Tracy? I didn't know him any more. Tracy had inextricably woven herself into the fabric of my being. I thought of her all day, even as I looked at her through my office window, and I wanted nothing more than to please her. We worked hard; she to keep her job and I to please my boss so that I could earn more and buy her more nice things. I surprised her with jewelry that I bought on my lunch break. I took her clothes shopping almost every weekend. I spent hours watching her try on clothes, and still more hours with her at the tailor, who reluctantly fitted each garment to cling lovingly to Tracy's emaciated body. On our one-year anniversary, of course, I took her out to celebrate. I lavished her with a disgustingly large bouquet of three hundred and sixty-five roses in a dazzling array of colors. She wore an elegant white silk gown that hugged her breasts appreciatively and swallowed the rest of her body. She ate a salad without dressing and we drank champagne. Just one glass went straight to her head and made her cheeks flush. I asked her to marry me. She cried out "Yes!" so loudly that the restaurant went silent, and then broke out in a smattering of confused applause as she sobbed and I slipped the ring on her finger. It was too big, of course, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. She threw her tiny arms around my neck and pressed her tits into me and I folded her frail body in my arms. She was shaking. I kissed her deeply and she stroked my face with her small fingers, devouring my affection. We did not linger at the restaurant long after that. Tracy's foot slipped out of its shoe and caressed my ankle teasingly, which, of course, gave me a raging boner. The tension between us was palpable and had hung there all day. Work had been too busy for any trysts in the janitor's closet or behind my desk. It had been several months since I had had to wait for Tracy for very long. Waiting the whole day was practically unheard of now. It had been over twelve hours since we'd done anything more than kiss and subtly grope and I was so horny for her that when I felt her cold little toe through my sock I wanted to throw the whole damn table aside, tear off her dress, and fuck her in the middle of the restaurant. As it was, I settle for kissing and stroking her hand as we waited for the check. I hailed a cab and we got in. I pulled Tracy into my lap and kissed her hard, squarely on the mouth. Then I showered her bare shoulders with kisses, my strong hands caressing her body through the silk gown. She moaned and melted, running her fingers weakly through my hair as her body shook with pleasure and longing. The cab driver smirked at us in the rear view, and the cab slowed to a crawl behind an endless string of brake lights. I glanced out the window, barely cognizant of what was happening as I buried my face in Tracy's impossible cleavage, dragging my tongue across the shallow furrows of her sternum. With one arm, I held her to me so tightly that now I was shaking and already leaking a bit of pre-come in my boxers. With the other arm, I sorted through what seemed like miles of silk, finally negotiating with the dress to maneuver my hand between Tracy' legs. Her pussy was already hot and slick with her wetness. Two of my fingers slid easily into her cunt and she moaned again, low and loud, arching her back and biting my neck as her little arms held on to me for dear life. My thumb pressed into her clit and she stifled a cry. I pressed her clit harder and made a gentle pumping, and she moaned in sync with the touches, while my fingers made a "come hither" motion. I started to fingerfuck her, maintaining pressure on her clit with my thumb as my fingers moved in and out. Her moans rose in pitch until she was almost crying and could not keep herself from saying, "Fuck! Fuck me, yeah, Jack, mmm, fuck!" I wanted to eat her pussy, but we were too cramped in the back seat of the cab. I started rubbing her clit in circular motions and for an instant she went rigid and held her breath, her fingers digging in to my neck. I persisted, and she began gasping with each inhalation and moaning a high, soft moan with each exhalation, and by now her nails would have drawn blood from my neck had she the strength to do it. The cab driver was now watching intently with his dick in his hand, slowly pumping up and down. Traffic was still at a crawl and I presume he had nothing better to do. If anything, his presence intensified my lust because she was mine- this incredible, beautiful, exquisite, delicate creature was all mine. Let him watch and jerk off; at least he appreciated her like I did, he could never touch her. Truly, I'd probably kill him if he tried. I paused, kissing Tracy's bare, corded neck tenderly, and withdrew my fingers from her pussy. "Don't-" she begged, her weak breath catching in her throat, "Oh jesus, Jack, please-" And so, never able to resist her demands for long, I ran my fingers along her labia and once again plunged them in to her hot pussy. She sighed in contentment, bucking her hips appreciatively as I once more began to caress the swollen nub of her clitoris. Her voice once more began to rise and fall, occasionally cooing my name, but mostly filling the cab with the music of her ecstatic moaning and panting. I withdrew my fingers from her vagina and massaged her clitoris between my thumb and forefinger, back and forth, then I pressed more firmly with all four fingers and rubbed clockwise, counterclockwise, switching every few seconds. Tracy was crying out and the cab driver was enraptured. They came at the same time, Tracy with a yell of ecstasy and the cab driver with an unceremonious grunt. Tracy was a puddle in my arms, frail and vulnerable and so weak. I held her close and tight, my erection still straining against my pants. I had been so absorbed in pleasing her that I had nearly forgotten about myself, although gratifying her like that in front of a stranger was almost enough to give me a hands-free orgasm. I was close to coming myself, but I loved the tension and the feeling of holding my fragile darling in my lap, cradling her languid body to my chest with one of her bony hips digging in to my crotch. She knew that I was still hard. One of her spindly hands caressed my chest, her finger still trembling too much to unbutton my shirt. Watching her shaking and struggling with the buttons was almost enough, at this point, to push me over the edge... almost. With an effort, she leaned up and kissed my neck, stroking my hard nipples through my dress shirt. As her body squirmed and she struggled for a good position to kiss me, her insubstantial ass ground against my dick. I had had a half-chub for the better part of the day and all through dinner, and for the last thirty minutes or so an erection so powerful it almost hurt. My dick was so sensitive that her squirming was enough. Now it was my turn to moan helplessly as she caressed my chest and, struggling to kiss my neck, her hipbones pressed and released and pressed and released my dick against my leg. It was the least dignified orgasm I was ever going to have, except the cab had started moving again and then stopped outside the apartment building just before I would've come. "No fare. Thanks for the show," the cab driver said, simultaneously laughing and leering. We thanked him hastily and got out of the cab. I practically had to carry Tracy to the elevator. Once inside, she pushed me up against the wall and pressed her body to me, apparently recovered from the punishment I gave her in the cab and ready for more. She kissed me, I kissed back, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, enveloping her, one hand stroking the prominence of the vertebrae that studded her back at the base of her neck. She moaned appreciatively and the elevator dinged. She turned, grabbing my hand, and led me in a daze to the apartment. Once the front door closed, my lust took over and I lost all control. I had been such a good boy all day, only jerking off once in the morning. I had grown accustomed to near-constant fucking, and now a whole day's worth of come and sexual tension had built up and was about to explode. I pulled her to me and assaulted her mouth with mine while I unzipped her carefully tailored dress down the back. The dress fell to the floor and she was naked underneath, of course, a woman of Tracy's physicality doesn't need a bra and she knew I loved it when she wore no panties. Still kissing her, I shrugged off my jacket and ripped off my own shirt. Buttons popped off and clattered to the floor and I tossed the ruined garment aside, fumbling with my trousers. Tracy pushed me on to the couch and obliged to take the offending pants off for me, then my boxers, finally freeing my poor, neglected, slightly sticky cock from its confines. She attacked my dick with the same animal lust I felt for her, taking it in her mouth and fearlessly sliding it down her throat. I couldn't help bucking my hips as she bobbed her head up and down, and she gagged, backing off to cough and tremble with a hand resting on my knee. But I couldn't take it, I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled her up on to the couch and laid her down, spreading her thin legs with my hands, then I shoved my throbbing cock inside her tightness. I thrusted hard, Tracy wailing incoherently as I pummeled her swollen pussy. I wanted to fuck her for hours, but in truth, I only lasted a few minutes. I couldn't help myself; I thrust as hard and deep as I could with Tracy's legs draped over my shoulders, bouncing on my back with each thrust. I came forcefully, crying out her name as I collapsed beside her on the sofa. She snuggled against me for warmth, her nipples erect against the chill of the room and her nakedness. I snaked my arms around her and drew her close, kissing her platinum blonde hair. There was a blanket on the far end of the sofa, but I was loathe to move at that moment. I just wanted to hold her. "I... adore you," I murmured, suddenly deeply moved to tell her, and I didn't know why. "I worship you. If there is a hell, I am going there, because I will never be as devoted to any god as I am to you." "Oh, Jack," she sighed, nuzzling my neck. "We're perfect for each other."