carl hose pornocopia MOBI.prc

Home > Other > carl hose pornocopia MOBI.prc > Page 7
carl hose pornocopia MOBI.prc Page 7

by Desconhecido


  What a stupid fucking idea. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing. He knew her last name, but what were the chances she was still there, and even if she was, that she would be interested in him?

  Something in his car rattled. He looked at the dash and saw red lights. He was no mechanic, but he knew red lights couldn’t be good.

  Then he saw the check engine light and knew he was screwed.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  He rolled the window down and lit a cigarette.

  He was fucked, no two ways about it. He’d come all the way to Georgia in search of some girl he’d never find, he was lost on a dusty back road, and now his car was about to die on him.

  He passed a hand-painted sign that featured a huge peach with the words eat peaches painted in bright orange beneath it in sloppy cursive.

  Yeah, just what I need, a fuckin’ peach, he thought.

  He drove on, pressing the car until it began to rattle.

  Do I sound bitter?

  Of course.

  He passed another sign similar to the first. The peach painted on this one was cut open a glistening drop of juice dripped from the cut. The words under the peach read fresh, juicy peaches, and for some reason, Mike got a hard-on.

  Holy shit, now I’m getting horny for a peach.

  The next few signs were all similar, with directions to the Orchard Inn and “all the peaches you can eat.”

  He passed more signs, each with crude painted arrows and a mile countdown to the Orchard Inn. Mike followed the signs, figuring the inn was the best bet in his current situation.

  By the time he turned onto the gravel drive leading to a white two-story farmhouse he presumed to be the much-touted Orchard Inn, Mike’s car was sputtering, coughing black smoke, and unable to go another foot.

  He abandoned the car and started down the gravel road on foot. There were peach orchards on both sides of the road. Mike was dying of thirst. The thought of a sweet, juicy peach made his mouth water, and while the farmhouse was in sight, it was still a damn far walk in this southern heat.

  Mike sneaked into the orchard and grabbed a peach. What harm could there be? He planned on spending at least one night at the inn, so surely the owners wouldn’t mind if he helped himself to one of the peaches.

  He bit into the peach as he continued down the gravel road toward the farmhouse. Sweet, sticky juice dribbled down his chin. He had to admit, it was one of the tastiest peaches he’d ever eaten.

  He had it gone within thirty seconds, licking his lips to get the last of the juice.

  Just one more, he thought.

  He glanced in the direction of the farmhouse, then he slipped into the orchard again, grabbing another peach, which he attacked with fervor.

  A sign in front of the farmhouse confirmed what Mike had already knew. This place was indeed the Orchard Inn.

  Mike went inside.

  The foyer was tastefully decorated with what looked like furniture from at least the Civil War era. The floors were hardwood with hand-woven area rugs. There was a dark polished mahogany desk on the other side of the entryway. A guestbook sat open on the desk. Beside it was a bell with a small sign that read ring for service.

  Mike tapped the bell. Its sound carried through the big house.

  “Well, hello,” came a voice from somewhere to Mike’s left.

  A gentle- looking woman in her sixties was coming from another room, smiling as she approached Mike.

  “I’d like to get a room for the night,” Mike told her.

  She was a talkative old woman, friendly in that southern way. She took Mike’s money, told him where his room was, and made sure he knew what time dinner would be served.

  “I make everything myself,” she assured him. “You haven’t tried anything until you’ve tried my peach cobbler.”

  Mike went up to his room. He needed to find a mechanic who’d come fix his car, but right now all he wanted to do was rest.

  He glanced out the window and saw he was at the back of the house, looking out over vast peach orchards. There was a barn in the distance, and just before he turned away from the window, he saw a girl come out of the barn and disappear into the orchards.

  Her blonde hair was in a ponytail. She was barefoot, wearing a halter top and blue jean cut-offs. That was about all Mike could really tell in the brief glimpse he managed to steal before she was out of sight.

  He hurried from his room, down the stairs, and out onto the front porch. He lit a cigarette and went around to the back of the house, heading toward the barn and the orchards. He still couldn’t see the girl, but he was determined to find her. The quick look he’d gotten of her had been enough to set his heart racing.

  And that wasn’t all. He realized, as he made his way across the back yard, that his cock was pressing hard against the front of his jeans, nearly bursting his zipper with anticipation.

  He forgot all the bad shit going on in his life-his cheating slut-of-a girlfriend, his piece-of-shit car, his search for some chick who probably didn’t even remember him-all of it gone.

  He wanted only one thing-to find the girl in the peach orchard.

  He was out of breath when he reached the edge of the orchards. She couldn’t have gotten far. He entered the orchards and began searching, moving up and down between the rows of peach trees.

  She was here somewhere.

  He cut through a stand of peach trees and crossed the open space on the other side, looking left and right, now beginning to wonder if she’d been a mere figment of his imagination.

  He was about to quit his search when he found her.

  She was standing on a ladder under one of the trees, picking peaches. He stood behind one of the trees, admiring the sweet curves of her bottom so clearly displayed in the tiny cut-offs.

  She stepped carefully back down the ladder, cradling her freshly-picked peaches. She set the peaches on the ground, reached behind her back to untie her halter, then slipped the halter off, exposing her small breasts.

  She ran her hands up over her tits and squeezed them, then she caught a tiny pale pink nipple between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and tugged them until they stood out nice and hard.

  Mike knew he should probably slip quietly away. He was intruding on this girl’s privacy. He had no right to watch her without her knowledge.

  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

  She unbuttoned her jeans and stepped out of them. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Somehow that didn’t surprise Mike one bit. A pretty young southern girl like her (she couldn’t have been more than nineteen or twenty) probably didn’t even own a bra or a pair of panties.

  She sat on the ground beneath the tree and picked up one of the peaches she’d picked. She bit into it, savoring the fruit for several moments. Mike saw the sticky peach juice dribbling down her chin. He imagined her lips and tongue working the soft, sweet fruit.

  What she did next made his cock twitch with desire. She held the peach over her breasts and squeezed it, smashing it to a pulp between her fingers and letting the juice splash all over her tits.

  Mike unzipped his pants and took out his cock. He slowly jerked his cock as he watched the pretty blonde rub the pulpy peach all over her tits.

  She leaned back against one of the trees with her knees bent and wide apart, giving Mike a clear view of her thick, curly blonde bush. She picked up another of the peaches and placed it against her pussy and began to rub it up and down.

  Her eyes were closed. Her small breasts rose and fell as her breathing quickened. She cupped one of her tits and squeezed it as she worked the peach against her pussy. It was clear she was on the verge of a climax.

  Mike pulled on his cock faster. The sight the blonde girl’s tits all slick and shiny with sticky peach juice while she masturbated with a peach was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He felt his cock throbbing and his balls getting tight as he approached an orgasm he knew would make his knees buckle.

 
“Hey, ya’ll wanna come over here?”

  The sound of that sweet southern accent dripping with sexuality stopped Mike right before his cock erupted.

  She was looking right at him, the peach still between her legs, though she was no longer rubbing herself with it.

  He stepped away from the tree he’d been using as cover, his erection sticking out of his pants with pride, showing no signs of softening.

  “My name’s Peaches,” she said. “What’s yours?”

  “Mike,” he answered. “I, uh, just checked into the inn.”

  “That’s my granny’s inn,” she said.

  There was a moment of silence between them, then she said, “You like Peaches, Mike?”

  “Sure do,” he said.

  “Why don’t you come over here and eat Peaches,” she suggested.

  She took the peach from between her legs and held it out to him. He went to her, knelt on the ground, and took a bite of the fruit.

  “Now this peach,” she said, pushing him between her widespread legs.

  He worked his tongue through the thick blonde curls of her pubic hair, sweetened as they were from the juicy peach she’d used on herself.

  “Ummm, lick me,” she said, sighing with pleasure as his tongue danced between the slippery folds of her vulva.

  She grabbed the back of his head, sliding her fingers through his hair as she pulled his mouth against her.

  “Right there,” she told him, breathing quicker now that he’d found her aroused clit. “Oh, Mike… you sure know how to please a girl.”

  Every sexy southern syllable she uttered drove him crazy with lust. Something about a southern accent was just too sexy to ignore.

  He sucked her clit into his mouth and nibbled. He flicked it with is tongue, teased her to within a heartbeat of climax, then let her slip away from the precipice of her orgasm before starting in on her again.

  He finally allowed her the release she so desperately needed, leaving her gasping for breath and flushed with desire.

  He wasn’t near finished with the masterpiece of southern charm, though. He kissed her flat tummy and then worked his way up, moving to lick one sticky pink nipple and then the other. He took them into his mouth one at a time, sucking and gently nibbling, and then he pushed her tits together and worked both nipples at the same time, doing his best to give them equal billing.

  “Let me suck your cock,” she said eagerly.

  He stood up and pushed his jeans and briefs down around his ankles.

  She got up on her knees, wrapping one hand around his shaft as her tongue snaked its way around the head of his cock a few times before she finally took his dick into her mouth.

  Her mouth was sheer heaven. It was warm and wet around is cock as she sucked. Her tongue worked around his cock while she sucked, creating an extra sensation that had him on the edge of climax within a couple of minutes.

  He stopped her suddenly, gently urging her mouth of his cock. He wasn’t ready to come yet. Not so soon. A sweet thing like her, he was pretty sure he’d have no trouble getting it up again, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  He laid her back on the grass and climbed on top of her, settling himself between her legs. He reached down and took hold of his cock, guiding the swollen tip of it up to rest against her slick entrance.

  He was inside her all the way with a single thrust. She was tight and hot and slick with pussy and peach juice.

  He fucked her with long, slow strokes, bringing his cock almost all the way out of her, then sliding in to the hilt again and again.

  She wrapped her legs around him and her hips rose to meet each of his strokes. Their pace began to quicken as each of them built toward their much-needed release.

  She screamed as she reached her climax. Her ass came off the ground as she wrapped herself around him and shook with the force of her orgasm.

  He allowed himself to come with her. His body tensed as his cock jerked inside her, giving an entirely different meaning to the phrase peaches and cream.

  They collapsed together afterward, but their rendezvous was far from over.

  Peaches instructed him to lie down. He did as she asked. She grabbed another of the peaches she’d picked from the tree and held it over his cock, which was still erect. She squeezed the peach until it smashed between her fingers. Warm, sticky peach juice dribbled over Mike’s cock and balls.

  She knelt between his legs and pushed the peach down over the top of his cock, then she put her tongue on his balls and began licking them, using wide, soft strokes to lick up the sticky juice.

  “Oh, shit…” Mike groaned.

  Peaches worked the soft, mushy peach up around on the head of his cock, twisting and turning, moving it up and down, always varying the rhythm. Her tongue flicked gently at his balls the whole time, driving him out of his mind with sensations he could only take in a little at a time without sensory overload.

  She took his balls in her mouth and rolled them around on her tongue, then she sucked on them, first one at a time, then both at once.

  The peach moving up and down on his cock was soft and warm. He closed his eyes and took in the pleasure it gave him.

  Peaches discarded the fruit after a moment, climbing on top of him as she did. She slid up and straddled his midsection, pressing her hot, slick pussy down on his erection. She rocked back and forth, rubbing her slippery pink slit up and down the length of his cock, occasionally grinding her hips in slow, wide circles.

  He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her all the way up to his chest. She raised up, moved forward slightly, then came down on his face, smothering him with the sweet peach taste of her pussy.

  He pushed his tongue through her damp blonde curls and into her pussy. She rode up and down, back and forth, using his tongue like a tiny cock. He worked it around inside her, bringing it out now and then to tease her hard little clit with it.

  Peaches squealed with delight as she reached another orgasm. Mike felt her body shudder. She fell forward, her hands flat on the ground on either side of Mike’s head for support, bucking her hips wildly as she rode out the waves of pleasure his probing tongue brought.

  Without missing a beat, Peaches slid away from his mouth, reaching back to guide his cock into her pussy. She brought herself up on it, then all the way down, then up again, establishing a slow, easy rhythm.

  Mike lay there, letting her do all the work. She didn’t seem to mind. This was one little southern belle that had an insatiable desire-a thirst that seemed never to be quenched-and Mike was happy to be of service.

  He watched as she threw her head back, moaning as she pushed all the way down on his cock and ground her pussy at the base. She cupped her tits, each barely more than a handful, and massaged them, squeezing and pushing them together, running her thumbs over her stiff nipples.

  She fell over him suddenly, pressing her tits against his face, feeding her nipples into his mouth one at a time. Her hips pumped a steady rhythm as she moved her sticky-wet pussy along the length of his shaft.

  He grabbed her hips and held her tight, raising her and setting her down on his cock as his tongue worked circles around her taut nipples.

  She came up off his cock without warning, turning away from him, putting her pale, soft ass toward him. She lowered her head and took his cock into her mouth, wrapping one hand around it, and backed up until her pussy was once again on his face.

  She worked her hips, rubbing her pussy on his mouth. He grabbed a soft ass cheek in each hand and spread her cheeks wide, making easy access to her puckered anus and damp, fragrant pussy. He probed both openings with his tongue, occasionally adding his fingers to the mix for variety, and soon she was moaning around a mouthful of his cock.

  Her hand worked up and down on his cock, moving faster and faster. Her tongue teased the underside of his cock, whipping against the sensitive spots. He could feel her mouth open as she plunged down on it, taking him to the hilt, and her lips loosen as she came up. Now and then she let
his dick fall from her mouth to work her tongue up one side and down the other, always keeping her fist in motion, bringing him closer with every stroke.

  He pushed his tongue into her pussy and tasted the combined sweetness of their juices and of the peach juice. He slid his tongue deep inside her, wiggled it around, then brought it out and sought the puckered ring of her asshole, flicking his tongue around it a couple of times before pushing it in.

  She did the bump and grind on his face, working herself back against him with increased frenzy. The sloppy wet sounds she made as she worked on his cock were punctuated by the moans and gasps of pleasure his mouth brought her.

  This was as close to Heaven as Mike would ever come. He knew that with a certainty. Lying here in the hot Georgia sun with a cute southern blonde squirming on his face and his cock deep in her mouth was just about as close to Heaven as any man could get.

  She plunged her mouth down around his cock again, sucking hard as she went, and this time there was no holding back. This time he closed his eyes and went with it, groaning as he raised pushed his hips at her and his cock exploded into her mouth.

  Mike plunged his tongue into the soft ripeness of her pussy and let the sweet nectar spill over it…

  … and he knew he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life eating Peaches…

  Exposure

  Angie and I live in a small town. There’s not much to do. We occupy our time with lots of good, sweaty fucking. Water sports, role playing, mutual masturbation-just about anything two people can do together, Angie and I have tried at least once.

  Everything that didn’t involve outside participants, that is.

  Angie is knockout gorgeous. Her long blonde hair frames a face that is the perfect blend of sweet innocence and porn-star promise. Her cheekbones are high and her baby-blue eyes, lightly flecked with green and gray, are as seductive as a waterfall in paradise. Her body, highlighted by an awesome set of 38DDs and a round ass, draws attention from male and female alike.

  One lazy Saturday afternoon we decided to explore the exhibitionist in us. We’d talked about it a few times in the past, but we’d never seriously considered getting involved in anything of that nature.

 

‹ Prev