Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/C/CHPT3.TXT

Text File | 1991-02-24 | 28.8 KB | 496 lines

chpt3.txt (of bert)
                     Chapter 3

  Bert talked with Cruncher for a few minutes after school, then
left his friend to speak to Alana when he spied the sexy black girl
coming out of the building.
  Alana spoke first, "Well, if it isn't the honkey stud with the
orange popsicle. How are you, Bert?"
  Bert smiled. Only week ago, if anyone had said something like
that to him, he would have been mortified, humiliated, and tongue
tied. No longer.
  "Still hot and hard for black ass. But what I wanted to  know was
the schedule on the paper. Did we get everything in on time...to
the printer?"
  Alana sighed, her shapely shoulders sagging the most minute
fraction in dissappointment under her yellow crushed velvet jacket.
"I was hoping you wanted to know something else...in the Biblical
sense." Bert flashed a toothy smile, and Alana continued, "To
answer the question, everything got to the printer before the
deadline. The edition should be out tomorrow with your photo layout
in it."
  Bert casually leaned against the building, then said, "Photo
layouts are fun to do. Maybe we can get together for a lay...out
sometime soon."
  "Love it!" the black editor exclaimed. "But I've got to run now.
I'll talk with you later about that...special assignment."
  "My editor's wish is my command!"
  Alana brushed Bert's arm with hers and a black hand lightly
touched his crotch as she passed him on the steps. In a flash she
was gone, leaving only a warm feeling in Bert's loins. That feeling
began to grow exponentially, and soon Bert felt as if he'd blow his
cool in public simply  from the fantasies he was building in his
brain.
  He decided that his hard-on was too good to waste. He'd go to
Carole's and see what could be done about relieving the insistent
bodily urges that were becoming more and more important to him.
  Bert sauntered to the van der Hoff household, taking his time and
deeply breathing in the fresh, crisp autumn air. Thoughts of
photographic compositions raced through his mind; the thoughts were
not on photographing scenic outlooks or falling leaves. Not unless
the scenic outlooks or the pile of leaves had a naked and
completely willing blond Carole van der Hoff spreading her legs in
wanton invitation to his throbbing cock.
  As he approached th house, Bert saw Carole racing out to get into
the snazzy sportscar driven by Tony diMaria. Bert wasn't very good
with cars or in identifying them, but he thought the school's
student body president was driving an Italian car, possible an
Alfa. Whatever it was, the car was red and small and flashy, just
the type of thing the lovely blonde who inhabited Bert's wet dreams
would really groove on.
  Bert's imprisoned cylinder of lust pressed firmly against his
trousers. It was lucky for the boy that the zipper release was on
the outside. His neddful, lusting cock might have been able to
slide the zipper down and free itself if the means had existed.
  The young photgrapher considered the dilemma. It would do not
good to see Carole. She had just left with her current paramour.
But Robin van der Hoff was something else.
  Was she ever something else!
  Carole didn't want anything to do with him - for the moment - and
he desperately needed a tight sheath of warm female flesh around
his hard, edacious organ. Robin had  been more than willing once,
she could supply the source of his gratification again.  And this
time, he would be the one to take the initiative.
  The Alfa roared along the street, the top down. Bert  watched
Carole's long, flowing locks flutter in the breeze, a golden
pennant and tribute to her femininity. He sighed, then turned his
attentions toward the front door of the house.
  A moment hesitation struck him, then he plunged ahead. Damn the
torpedoes, full speed ahead! And would he ever torpedo Robin's ship
in its snug harbor this time!
  Bert rang the doorbell and waited. When no one came to answer he
rang again and, simultaneously, Robin answered.
  She looked moemtarily surprised to see him but covered it well.
"Hello, Bert. What can I do for you?"
  The youth with a raging hard-on had to bite his tongue to keep
from answering that like he wanted. He decided to play it cool.
  "I came to see if Carole was around.  Could I speak with her?"
  A look of relief crossed Robin's fine features. "I'm  sorry,
Bert, but she's gone out, and I don't know when she will be back.
Possibly not for several hours."
  Bert glided in past the woman as he was saying, "That's all
right. I'll wait." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "I'm sure
we can think of something to do while I'm waiting."
  Robin was startled as Bert walked into the living room, and
seated himself. Her hands shook slightly, and the young
photographer noted that she was not the completely austere, haughty
woman she pretended to be. He had somehow managed to breech her
barriers of reserve.
  He was planning on breeching other, more delightful barriers
before he left the house.
  "Uh, look, Bert, I think I'd better have a talk with you about
this."
  "Certainly, Robin, dearest. Come sit here beside me." He patted
the spot next to him on the loveseat. Robin was  growing more and
more uncomfortable. Bert inwardly relished the feeling of power he
was wielding over the woman. For so long, he felt as she must be
feeling now. Uncertainly,  hesitant, even a little fearful.
  "Bert," she started to say, going to a chair on the far side of
the room.
  "Robin." His voice was flat, commanding. "Sit here." Again he
indicated the cushioned seat next to him.
  Robin swallowed, then came and sat next to Bert. Her body shook
slightly and, from Bert's point of view, delightfully. The
patterned blouse housing her twin peaks of wonderous, snowy white
titflesh could not conceal the sensous swaying. Her chest heaved in
reaction to the sudden stab of fear that she had lost control of
the boy she had made into a man.
  Bert's eyes burned with feverish intensity. And it was the
unmistakable fire of unquenchable desire that flared.
  "Bert, that time...it...it wasn't what you think. My husband is
gone so much of the time and I get...I get..."
  Robin seemed at a loss for words. Bert had no trouble supplying
them for her.
  "Horny? You get horny, isn't that it?" His brown eyes worked
upwards from the dual mounds that were her sheathed breasts until
he locked his eyes on her radioactive cobalt-blue ones. Robin's
hair had become a trifle disarrayed, and a strand of the fine
golden hair fell across her forehead and partially hindered her
view.
  Bert reached out and gently moved the wayward strand of silky
hair back into its proper place. Robin flinched involuntarily. She
had no desire to continue the one time  fling she's had with the
boy.
  "Please try to understand me, Bert. Please," she begged. "You're
a nice boy, but you're just a boy. You're young enough to be my son
for God's sake!"
  "Does that really matter, Robin? I'm not too good at remembering
things, but I saw this in my World Lit. book the other day, 'Age is
a tyrant who forbids at the penalty of life, all the pleasures of
youth'. Doesn't that seem appro- priate to you?"
  Robin shivered slightly and mumbled, "La Rouchefoucauld also said
'Few people know how to be old.' I think I should try to act my
age."
  "Bert's eyes continued to roam over her slim, girlish  figure.
The slender legs, encased in smoky nylon, protruded from under the
tight black shirt Robin wore. His eyes caressed the smooth flow of
her hips, the trim, round ass,  the delicate, almost fragile waist.
But he kept returning to the high hemline and tracing down the
length of her legs.
  Glorious, wonderous legs excited him immensely. Calves
displaying muscle, yet not bulky or knotted muscle. Smooth, sleek,
and heartstoppingly long limbs.
  Bert loved the subtle fragrance of Robin's perfume; it drew him
as a pollen flower attracts the honey bee. He did not reply to her
protests. Instead, he slipped his hand behind her golden crowned
head and prevented her from escaping as he brought his lips to
hers.
  In spite of what Robin had said, she wanted him.  She wanted him
badly to relieve her own sexual tensions. The woman didn't want to
have an affair with a boy, but she saw it was useless to protest.
He was determined and, in a perverse way, she was glad. Robin could
let Bert take some of the initiative and, in some fashion she could
not easily determine, the boy was vastly more than he had been. No
longer scared or unsure, he appealed to her on the most elemental
sexual level possible.
  Robin wanted Bert's long, hardened prick shoved between her legs
and up her cunt. She wanted the satisfaction a woman received only
when a man fucked her.
  The coral tip of her tongue raced around her lips a split second
before Bert's melted against hers. It was a silent invitation. A
tacit acknowledgement that she was saying one thing while her body,
her very core of being, screamed out another.
  Bert's kiss was not very adroit. He had much to learn about
properly kissing a woman. But Robin was just the person to show
him. As she warmed to the feel of his lips against hers, the woman
began to return the kiss with ferver and ill-suppressed desire.
  The youthful photographer felt the difference instantly. He
hadn't missed the tiny circuit of the lips Robin made before he
kissed her. Bert certainly couldn't miss the feel of her mouth
opening slightly, the increased pressure and the probing tongue
delving into his mouth. Although the  youth had been the one who
started the session, it was ob- viously turning into another
educational experience for Bert Ellis.
  He'd always wanted to get sex education out of the class room and
back onto the playground where it belonged!
  He continued holding Robin's head firmly pressed toward him as
she teased his tongue with her own dextrous oral digit. The taste
of her saliva was sweet, succulent and indescribably delicious. The
delicate, feather light touches of her tongue against his seemed to
ignite passions in Bert's  body that were barely controllable. Bert
felt himself growing harder, the head of his cock spreading like
the hood of a cobra preparing to strike. And, like a snake, he felt
the sinuous wiggling back and forth as his excitement grew.
  Robin reached down and pressed against the lump in her sex
partner's trousers. He would have gasped except that the woman's
tongue had completely entrapped his; he could say nothing, only
breathe harder and faster as she constricted her hand and grabbed
onto his balls.
  The teenager pulled her head back, breaking the mouth to mouth
tutoring with some reluctance. Bert managed to mumble, "Free
it...my cock feels like its going to burst open!"
   A tiny smile danced on Robin's lips. "It will, Bert, it will. I
promise."
  The rythmic squeezing of his crotch excited Robin as much as it
did the possessor of those proud, churning balls and quivering
dick. Robin descended again onto Bert's mouth, forcing his lips
apart with her darting, agile tongue. Inside his mouth once more,
she began to explore, an expert at spelunking in men's oral
caverns. This one was a real treat because Robin knew she might be
the first to ever explore the depths. The woman wasn't certain but,
for all of Bert's newfound confidence and take-commands airs, she
guessed that he had not been on many dates and that girls were
still a wonderful mystery, if not a little bit frightening.
  If Robin could have read Bert's confused mind, her hunch would
have been confirmed. Bert was thinking that this had to be Heaven,
he must be dead and gone to his reward. Kissing Robin was nothing
like kissing Alana or Patty, his  first heartthrob in junior high.
This was something greater, a higher class, a quantum jump in
excellence and arousability. The kiss was electric, dynamite, but
it was nothing to the sprouting manhood building into a towering
spire at his groin.
  His cock was unbearably bloated with desire to be buried again in
Robin's clutching, tight, hot cunt. He wanted nothing more than to
feel the warmth of her love tunnel around his length grasping at
his rod like she had done before.
  But Robin had other plans. The woman wanted to initiate Bert into
as many of the intriacies and delights of sex as she could; she
felt like a schoolgirl again, leading a  stumbling student along
the path to satiation.
  Her hand stopped gripping at Bert's jeans. Thumb and forefinger
carefully reached out and took the zipper in a firm hold. Slowly,
with a teasing, torturous slowness, she dragged the piece of metal
down its track. Bert's eyes were  glued on the spectacle. The
slender fingers tipped with fuschia-tinted nails opened the front
of his trousers. He began to feel even more excited just thinking
of what was to come...him!
  Those agile, groping fingers dived inside the opening  that had
been created and fumbled until his fleshy rod pulsed against them.
Again between thumb and index finger, Robin grasped the sweaty,
shaking tool and pulled it out into the cool air of the living
room.
  The sight of the purpled head quaking in lust - for her! - caused
her crotch to begin to water. Robin could barely restrain herself
from ripping off her clothing and cramming that turgid tool far up
inside her and reveling in the feel of a pulsing cock beating out
an erotic tempo in her cunt.
  Bert's hands, even shaking as they were, managed to free the
buttons running down the front of Robin's blouse. The garment hung
open, and he saw for the first time the black, lacy bra that did
little to hide her tits but supported the twin demiglobes of flesh
nicely. His hand strayed and gent- ly plied the smooth, warm
expanse of her flesh, wanting to completely free those enticing
mountains of tit from their lacy encumberance. Jugs were meant to
be felt, handled,  fondled, sucked, not trapped in some conical
contrivance originally manufactured by a demented Frenchman.
  Bert managed to insinuate his clumsy hand behind Robin as he
searched for the eyes and hooks of her bra strap. His inexperience
with such things betrayed him. Or it might have been his inability
to concentrate as Robin began stroking his cock from its hairy base
to the sensitive, twitching crown. her initial stokes were soft,
gentle and barely perceptible. As the woman squeezed down, gripping
Bert's length harder, the sensations smashing through his body
increased tenfold, a hundred-fold. Lances of pure, undiluted joy
seared his nerves like acid.
  But it was pleasurable torture Carole's mother was meting out to
him. He could have rocked back on the loveseat and  allowed her to
do nothing more than give him a handjob.
  Through his lust numbed brain came other messages, the maturing
voice of sexuality from a higher plane. Bert continued to strain
and eventually managed to free the diabolical fasteners of Robin's
black, frilly bra. As if spring loaded, the bra snapped around her,
hanging only by the twin straps over her shoulders. A little bit of
maneuvering on both their parts and Bert soon had gotten the woman
out of both her blouse and brassiere.
  The sight of Robin naked to the waist sent a jab of excitement
through Bert's psyche that caused him momentarily to lose the
sexual control he was learning. The two jugs bouncing and bobbing,
tracing out invisible figure eights in the air with the ruddy
nipples were almost too much for him to bear without ejaculating.
  The woman's breasts were tributes to her femininity. The first
time he had seen them, his mind had been dulled and  blurred with
the shock of what had been happening to him. This time, although
extremely excited and desirous of fucking this woman until she was
cross-eyed, Bert retained some small vestige of objectivity.
  The teenager studied the expanse of skin revealed to him. And it
was marvelous. The slight sag in Robin's tits was the only
indication that she was nearly forty years old. She kept herself in
superb physical shape. The idle thought drifted through Bert's mind
that fucking a couple times a day might do it, keep that mysterious
glow that seemed to flush a woman's complexion after a really good
fuck.
  The tits weren't monstrous, and for that Bert was glad. He had
decided that huge, tremendously floppy tits weren't for him. If he
had looked at the small tag on Robin's discarded bra, he would have
found the notation '36C'. She had moderate size tits, boobs large
enough to pop into a mouth watering for woman-flesh, but not
grotesquely large. Any- thing more than a mouthful - or handful -
was a waste of good material.
  As Robin stroked with increasing urgency along Bert's tumescent
lust staff he dropped to suckle at one of the inviting nipples
presented to him. The fiery red nubbin of flesh pointed at him,
seemed to accuse of dereliction of duty. The youth did not want to
be guilty of failing to respond where he was desperately needed.
His lips touched the slightly bumby plain around the erectile
tissue, and then he compressed his lips until he managed to trap
only the nipple between them. Bert's tongue flashed forward, racing
full force into the tiny mound of pulsating flesh.
  Robin quivered, and he felt her breath quicken. His rough, wet
tongue laved the surface of the nipple repeatedly, each stroke
bringing forth an even more emphatic reaction from Robin. At one
point, Bert almost had to desert Robin's fantastic breast and
scream out his own passion. Her slender fingers had brutally
clamped down on his cock as if trying to milk him of his come. It
had been a reaction to the lust pounding through her body, and
involuntary sudden action.
  "Oh Bert, Bert... that's sooo niiice!" Robin moaned as the
teenager mouth her nipple anew.
  His tongue began to spiral around the nipple and engulf the
aureole. Bert decided that he liked the taste so much he would
continue until he had the entire tit firmly en- sconced in his oral
cavity. His twisting and licking motion took him around the conical
mountain of flesh and down the snowy slopes. As more and more of
Robin's breast entered his mouth, Bert found it increasingly hard
to use his ton- gue anywhere except across the nipple.
  Robin didn't mind. Hard manmeat in one hand and wet, superbly
gratifying mouth around a tit, she didn't mind at  all!
  She felt his teeth bite into the sides of her breasts as the
boy's jaws streched to take in more and more of her tit. The woman
thrust her chest forward inviting him to take all he could. It was
a carnal Garden of Eden for her. The sensations spearing into her
chest set off a delayed reaction depth charge inside her and caused
her cunt to itch and beg for occupancy. Male occupants. Long, hard,
throbbing, pow- erfully stroking male inhabitants.
  But she remembered her vow to introduce Bert to more  specialized
erotic techniques. Some oral sex satisfying her own needs.
  "Bert," she cooed, "Bert, darling, let me go for a second."
  His ears were benumbed with longing, but the youth did as she
bid. Robin still had him under her spell, she could  still dictate
to him. Not that he minded. She was the best teacher he'd ever had!
And he enjoyed the homework more  than he had ever thought
possible.
  Robin's question mouth dropped to Bert's crotch. Using  her hand,
she guided the purple hooded shaft protruding proudly from the
boy's groin into her mouth. She did not take the entire length at
first. Robin only lightly touched the sensitive glans with her
tongue, making small circuits around the periphery of his organ.
She tasted the slight secretion from the youth's seldom tried
penis. Man musk assailed her mostrils and excited her immensely.
Robin  licked out with frowning fervor at the trapped morsel nuz-
zling against her lips.
  She attempted to poke her tongue into the tiny pinprick hole at
the end of the rod and failed. But it didn't matter because the act
caused Bert to squirm and thrash with mounting ardor. When the
woman's tongue stroked and lightly caressed the underside of his
cock, Bert nearly lost his mind. Jolts of lightning blazed through
his head, shock waves of carnal intensity assaulted the fortress of
his brain and shook him to the very foundations of his being. His
body heaved, and again he had to restrain himself from coming.
  Sensing how near orgasm the boy was, Robin halted her o- ral
ministrations for a moment, electing to only stoke and feel the
jerking rod. As his passions abated slightly, her mouth engulfed
his shaft, and the woman began to take his entire length into her
awaiting oral cavity. As the youth had done with her tit, Robin now
returned the favor on his pole. Her dextrous organ of taste rotated
around and around licking and savoring every tiny portion of cock.
  The taste was wonderful and one of which Robin was in- cabable of
getting enough. She loved fucking. She loved sucking. And being the
one to introduce the teenager to the mysterious and fantastic
wonderland of sexual activity excited her beyond mere words.
  The shaft slid smoothly into her wet, salivating mouth. She bit
down, slightly, gently, so as not to harm the flesh under her
teeth. As Robin carefully gnawed on the resilient, blood-surfeited
flesh of Bert's cock, the youth broke out into a profuse sweat. He
gripped the cushion on the love- seat with ferocious intensity, his
fingers biting deeply into the soft fabric and stuffing material.
He was lost in a fairyland of bewildering reactions. Bert wasn't
sure he could sort out all the simultaneous sensations impinging on
his body and brain.
  He was furiously perspiring, but that was the result of his
arousal. And his sexual arousal was caused by...what?
  Was it the sight of Robin's naked tits and gently bounc- ing
body? The way her nipples rubbed against his legs? Was it his
mouthing of those scrumptious tits that had started it all? Or was
it her expert mouth gulping and erotically tormenting his manhood?
  Or was it all of those things plus his own fantasies come true?
  Bert couldn't have cared less. He slid back and allowed Robin to
do what she wanted with his body.
  Robin sensed the youth's burgeoning passion by the feel of his
cock. It now jerked and quivered with an accelerated pulse rate. It
expanded and grew in girth and length as more and more blood pumped
into it, making the cock a true man's sword fit for sheathing in
any woman's scabbard.
  But the fellatrix was going to deny this succulent hunk of meat
that privilege...this time. Even though the zipper was an
encumberance, both were too far gone down the road of love ferver
to bother with the metal contrivance. Robin's nose burrowed and
snuggled into the tangled mat of Bert's pubic hair as she swallowed
his seven inches. Holding it in her mouth, she raised her head
slightly, pressing the underside of his cock down hard against her
tongue, then retreated reluctantly. As Bert's tender flesh was
drawn across the slick, moist tongue, explosions wracked his body.
The de- liberate torture bent his stiff rod the slightest bit and
added to his arousal in a magnitude he had not thought  possible
from his already hot body.
  Robin felt the teenager's prick slip across the roof of her
mouth. And a palatable dick it was, too. Tasty, a true gormet's
treat. She didn't know why her daughter didn't want to partake of
a feast like this, but Robin couldn't care. Let Carole play her
cock tease games. And Carole's mother would have all the fun - and
cocks.
  Her teeth slid to the backside of the expanded hood on the end of
the teenagers's love piston. Robin locked down the tiniest amount,
then pulled back, her teeth lightly scoring the delicate flesh.
Bert writhed and moaned in the mindless throes of passion. But
Robin admitted he was doing an admirable job in controlling
himself.
  If she had known that Bert was doing it for a greedy reason, it
would not have mattered. He knew the sucking and kissing and
licking along his cock was really turning Carole's mother on in a
big way, but it was for his own satisfaction that he kept from
jetting his load. The youth wanted this to last forever. He did not
want her eager, hungry mouth to ever leave his cock. The prickly
sensation that creeped down his cock and into his balls warmed his
body and stirred emotions he had been unaware of possessing.
  The first time he had been scared, awed. With Alana, they had
both been a bit too eager for proper foreplay, for ade- quate
arousal. This time, the first time anyone had sucked him off, was
going to be different. He was going to explore the sensations in
the greatest depth possible. The wetness of his cock as Robin
traveled his length was but one portion of the entire collage of
feelings.
  The teenager ran his fingers through the lustrous strands of her
platinum hair. Bert caressed and toyed with her  shell-like ears,
guided her head in the motion up and down his stalk. And, the musky
scent that so aroused him had to be emanating from Robin.
  The boy's fingers couldn't search for her crotch and find out for
certain, but if they could have, he would have found a veritable
rain forest of tangled pubic hair totally drenched in cunt juice.
Robin was gushing her internal lubricants out with torrential
force. The gale winds of sex blowing inside her hurled the liquids
out to dampen her nylon tricot bikini briefs and made her wish she
had on a  pair of crotchless panties.
  But then her lust-juices would have dribbled down her leg. It
didn't really matter, however. Bert knew she was hot. And Robin
knew Bert was straining to control his body. She en- joyed playing
with him, wished she could reach the hairy little compacted sac
containing his balls. A tweak or two  there would have brought the
rushing flood of his come to sear and whitewash her throat.
  As it was, Bert didn't need any expert fingering of his scrotum.
The rubbing of his balls across his rough jeans was doing an
adequate job of stimulation. He felt the juices inside him began to
boil and churn, his rocks rumbling in the stewpot of his groin. The
safety valve on his pressure cooker was being breeched against his
will; Robin's educated mouth had taught him still another lesson of
the flesh.
  Robin's cheeks went concave with the suction she applied to his
tube of joy, and he hunched his hips up thrusting his length back
into her mouth. Robin backed slightly away, forcing Bert's cock to
withdraw against the intense vacuum in her mouth. As if some Pied
Piper had begun playing on his organ pipe, the semen and sperm that
had been banging away at Bert's restraints erupted with seething,
demoniac fury. His come soared into the eagerly awaiting mouth of
the woman crouched in front of him.
  Robin swallowed the first spurt of come easily, the second almost
drowned her it came so quickly after the first onslaught. The third
and fourth filled her mouth and caused a trickle of the viscous
white jism to run down her chin.
  Bert's body was gripped in the velvet and iron of orgasm, and he
wandered through the funland of his body's intense reactions for
what seemed too short a time. He drifted back down from his sexual
high to the reality of the room, the woman in front of him, his
come whitely shining on her face.
  Bert watched in fascination as Robin's tongue slithered out and
expertly captured the runaway jism of his lust. The wet pink digit
hooked around the gooey strand and herded it back into her mouth
where she seemed to sample it like a wine connoisseur tasting a
fine vintage wine. A contented smile was on her lips, her eyelids
were half closed as she laid her down in Bert's lap.
  The teenager gently stroked her hair, smoothing it where he had
been lacing his fingers through the golden forest and disarraying
the strands.
  "Bert," Robin said, her voice low and husky, "I really shouldn't
have done that. I don't want to make love to you on a regular basis
and yet..." her voice choaked slightly.
  "And yet I'm weak. My body overcomes me, and I can't control
myself. I know you would rather be doing this with Carole than an
old woman, but I just can't help myself."
  Bert smiled a trifle. "You're not an old woman. You don't look
it, and you certainly don't make love like it. I can't even say I'd
be coming back here if it wasn't for you. Sure, I want Carole to go
out with me, but is she half the expert at lovemaking that you
are?"
  Robin gave a tiny snort. "Hardly, I don't understand her. But
that's not what I was intending to say to you, Bert."
  She lifted her head and gazed into his chocolate eyes. "I really
shouldn't lust after you, yet I do. I can't control myself. If you
could, it would be best for both of us."
  Bert's vision was firm and never wavered form those blue orbs
pleading with him. "I'm learning to control myself." The answer he
gave wasn't quite the exhortation Robin had just voiced. But she
didn't seem to notice the double meaning.
  Robin put her head back down into his lap, Bert's cock deflating
under her cheek as his sexual need for this ravishingly beautiful
woman rested - for the moment, he was content.