It was the first neighborhood block party of the summer. At thirty-two, Mark was quite a bit younger than most of his neighbors. Nevertheless, Mark rarely missed one of the monthly get-togethers. His friends wondered why he bothered, but what they didn’t appreciate was that these otherwise boring parties offered free food, free drink, and, sometimes, free pussy.
There were hot cougars looking for a little on the side, a few trophy wives eager for the same, and most delicious of all, daughters back from college. Mark usually got three of four good fucks a summer out of these neighborhood events.
Mark walked into the Stewarts’s backyard like he owned the place. At six-foot, four inches and a muscular two-hundred twenty pounds, he commanded attention. He was handsome, with closely cropped blonde hair and penetrating blue eyes. Most of all, he had that “big dick energy.” Even guys who thought he was a douche bag felt cooler and tougher if Mark graced them with his attention. And, women either wanted to fuck him, or wanted people to think that he was fucking them.
Mark was showered with “hellos” and slaps on the back. Someone handed him a beer. He scoured the yard, deck and pool for prospects. There was Angela Simpson — still fucking hot at fifty. She’d given him her ass a couple of times last summer. He wouldn’t mind taking it again. Over on the pool steps was Kimberly Bell. She was in her early thirties, and was very well cared for by her much older husband. Not much about her was real, but it was all first-class work. They had come very close to fucking in the Thompsons’ game room last year. Mark was certain he could close the deal this year. Hell, given the skimpiness of her bikini, I might be able to nail her today.
And then Mark saw Isabel Stewart. Damn, Mark thought to himself. Freshman year in California has been very good to her. Her hair was longer, and blonder than it had been. She’d always had an amazing body, especially her legs and butt, but standing there in super short cut-offs in this moment, she was breathtaking. She ran track and had been a cheerleader in high school; she was doing the same at her small, very expensive beach-side college. Mark mumbled, “I’m going to fuck that,” under his breath as he made his way toward her.
“Oh, hey, Mark,” Isabel cooed as he walked up to her. He deliberately took her in. He wanted her to know he wanted her. Her light hazel eyes sparkled. She wanted him to look at her. Her small, perky tits poked against her tight t-shirt. A pierced belly button played peekaboo at her waistline.
It was what fell below her waist that really captivated him. Her strong, well-muscled thighs were already covered in a summer tan. Her defined calves led down to an adorable pair of high-arched bare feet. But, it was her ass that mesmerized him, most of all. Her shorts ended above the point that her fit hamstrings met the lower curve of her ass. It was a most tantalizing sight.
Isabel was well aware of her powers, and she made a point of spinning enthusiastically, and bending to stroke the smooth skin of her legs, in order to exercise her power to its fullest. Mark felt an irrepressible desire to break the girl, and he was hard at the thought.
Mark left the party with the phone numbers of two likely sluts, but more importantly, the WhatsApp alias for Isabel. Before he even got all the way home, Isabel practically insisted that she should “cum for a visit” the next day.
Mark spent a restless night as thoughts of what he would do to Isabel’s sexy body ran through his head. He fought off the urge to beat his long, thick cock, in favor of saving all his spunk for the thirsty youngster. But he could not shake his fantastic visions.
He would get her naked, quickly, but stay clothed himself. They liked that. It established the dynamic. Then he would pull a power move. He would manhandle her. He smiled to himself. Why not jump to the big move? He would pick her up and cartwheel her over, and eat her out, standing up. She would melt. They all did.
To shock her, he would toss her onto the couch — like really toss her — no less than four feet in the air. He could hear her gasp of fear and excitement in his mind. He would strip, as she watched him, and he would stare into her eyes with a menacing glare. Ha! She’d be sopping by the time he strode over to her. He’d take a fistful of that long hair and pull her to his cock. He’d get a good gag or two out of her, that was certain.
But who was he kidding? As pretty as that face was, it was that ass that he wanted to look at as he fucked one of her holes. It didn’t matter which one, so long as he was staring down at those delectable ass cheeks and tiny waist as he took her, hard, in doggy. He would spank those firm round globes, as she squealed and moaned, and she submitted to his cock, and to his hand. It was going to be a very, very good afternoon.
Isabel arrived at his place at 3:20. They had agreed on 3 o’clock sharp. Or so he had thought. She was in a button-front mini-dress. He had explicitly stated he wanted her in the same pair of cut-offs she’d worn at the party. But, it didn’t matter. The dress was adorable. It would be fun to tear it off of her.
“How about a drink, Big Boy? Champagne, maybe?” Isabel said as she skipped and twirled around the room. Fine, if that’s what it takes to get this little imp to lie down, he thought to himself as he walked to the fridge. He was already semi-hard. He wanted to get to it.
Mark popped the cork on a bottle of Moet. He filled a couple of flutes, and carried them carefully as he walked back into the living room.
“So, now, Isabel. I think in return for this bubbly, you should give me a little sho-—” Mark said as he raised his eyes from the overly full glasses. Isabel was already naked — or nearly so. She was in a pair of red boy shorts. She turned away from Mark, and looked over her shoulder as she pulled the spandex into the cleavage of her epic ass.
“This is your show, for the moment,” she said with a mischievous smile. She turned back around and sauntered in Mark’s direction. He was struck dumb by her cross-legged walk, the firmness of her taut tummy, the jiggle of her B-cup breasts. Mostly he was transfixed by the intensity of her stare. Before Mark could formulate a new plan, Isabel snatched a champagne glass and spun away from him. She sat sideways in a lounge chair with her lovely legs stretched out over an arm.
“Why don’t you get naked, Mr. Mark. Let’s see what all the fuss is about,” Isabel said with a bit of a laugh. After a half-second hesitation Mark peeled off his plain white t-shirt and stepped out of his faded blue jeans. He had dressed anticipating that they would get to the fucking quickly, so he had omitted any briefs. His big dick swung free, at about three-quarter mast. He stepped toward her.
“Nah! Nah!” Isabel stopped him. “I haven’t finished my bubbly yet. And you don’t seem quite ready for me,” she taunted. “It’s big, I’ll grant you. Just like Mrs. Simpson said. But in its current state I don’t think that could hurt a fly.”
Embarrassed, Mark pulled at his member. It did not spring to full life as quickly as he might have hoped. This hot little vixen is intimidating.
“Ah. Do you need a little inspiration?” Isabel asked in a pitying tone. She downed the rest of her champagne and commenced to strike poses in the chair. She pulled her legs apart, across each arm of the chair.
“You want these tits?” Isabel asked as she tweaked her nipples. “Ooh, I know. You want this bald pussy of mine,” she said as she pulled the fabric of her panties into her slit. “No, no. I know what you want most of all,” she continued as she turned onto her knees. “You want what all the boys want. You want this ass. Isn’t that right?”
Mark nodded as he tugged at his now fully hard eight inches. Oh, the things I’m going to do to this girl, he thought to himself.
“O.K., then, let’s give you a closer look at this thing, shall we?” Isabel said as she hopped out of the chair and flung the magazines, gaming console, coasters, and Mark’s untouched champagne glass from the coffee table that stood between them. She pointed at Mark, and then pointed at the table. He hesitated, but she repeated her direction.
Isabel had him off his game, but he was excited to see what she had in mind. He lay across the teak table. He felt a puddle of champagne against the bare skin of his back. His heart rate was noticeably accelerated. He looked up at the surprisingly aggressive minx standing over him as she straddled his face. He reached up to grab her waist, but she pushed his hands away.
“Not yet, boyfriend,” Isabel said. “I’m running this show, remember?”
She lightly dragged her satin-clad mound and butt over Mark’s forehead, nose, lips and chin. Back and forth she went, just barely touching him. He breathed in the aroma of her sex as the moistened fabric passed over his face. He felt the firm muscles of her flexing thighs as she moved down his body. He lifted his head to look at her perfect ass cheeks as she barely grazed his muscled chest, hard abs, and, finally, his rigid, weeping, cock. I should grab her by the hair, bend her over the couch, and yank those panties off, his mind screamed at him. Yet, he did not move.
To Mark’s relief, when Isabel finished her teasing first pass, she stood and peeled the red boy shorts out of her ass crack and dropped them to the floor. Then she spun and began a return trip. She ever so lightly dragged her bare pussy over Mark’s thighs. Rather than the smooth satin of her panties, he felt her even softer pussy lips. Mark’s breathing quickened. She pressed more firmly when she reached his cock, which lay rigid against his groin. Isabel slid her moistened vulva along his shaft, lightly grinding until it nestled into her groove. Mark moaned.
“Fuck, girl,” Mark moaned as he raised his hands to caress her. Isabel grabbed his wrists and pushed his arms to his side. She braced some of her weight against his forearms as she undulated her hips. She was sliding along the full length of him now, firmly, as her juice leaked out over him.
“I need to fuck you, now, little girl,” he groaned in a tone that was more pleading than commanding.
“Shhhh…” Isabel shushed him. “Not yet, little boy.”
After a few more firm grinds against Mark’s cock, Isabel continued her path. She sat on his stomach, and then his chest — knocking a bit of wind from his lungs. She lingered at his left nipple, circling her swelling clit over it until it was taut. Then she moved to his right nipple and repeated the maneuver. She glanced against Mark’s gulping Adam’s apple, before moving to his lips. He could not resist extending his tongue to flick at her nub, and then to probe inside her. When he tasted her tangy, briny center, he moaned. Isabel hesitated, briefly, clearly enjoying his tongue there. But, she moved on, once more. She splayed her wet lips over Mark’s nose, cheekbones, and forehead as she gripped his head. Mark’s face was covered in the sheen of her honey. He didn’t seem to mind.
Isabel stood and turned around. Mark assumed she was going to take another trip down his body. I’ll take her this time, he thought, as he anticipated tasting the delectable teen’s twat. Isabel had something different in mind.
“I think this is what you’ve been longing for,” she said as she positioned herself over Mark’s face. He flicked at her pussy as he looked up at Isabel’s spectacular tush. She began to move her wet lips over his lips and tongue. The flex of her round, tan, muscled globes as he stared into the cleavage of her ass was making Mark crazy. He reached for his hard cock and pulled his foreskin up and down over his glans. He would have to take her mouth or cunt soon.
Isabel increased the span of her slides across Mark’s face at the same time that she lowered herself further. She swung from Mark’s dimpled chin to the bridge of his nose. She enveloped his nostrils with her wet cunt on the upswing, and then dragged her taint and ultimately her pink, puckered asshole over his nose and mouth, on the downstroke.
Mark tried to twist away, but Isabel kept him well framed with her strong thighs, until he seemed to succumb. His fist moved faster on his cock. He was enjoying himself.
Isabel then changed her rhythm. She shortened her swings and focused Mark’s attention on, and in, her ass. Mark had a moment of hesitation. He’d had his salad tossed, plenty of times, by willing sluts. But he had never rimmed a woman. It seemed beneath him. That was for wimps. If you are going to do it, this is probably the ass to lick, he told himself as he purposefully flicked his tongue at the rim of her back door.
“Mmmm,” Isabel purred. “Yeah, boy, that’s it. Get in there.” She pulled her cheeks apart and arched her back, to improve Mark’s access. He went deeper as Isabel’s hole pulsed open and closed. She commenced a slow twerk over his face, pushing down more firmly as she rocked over him.
And then, without warning, Isabel released her weight from her thighs and sat fully on Mark’s face. Mark panicked for a moment as all light and air vanished. He tried to raise his head to no avail. He tried to twist away, but remained trapped. He forced air through his flattened nostrils. He realized he enjoyed the smells and tastes of mixed pussy and ass.
Isabel was grunting and moaning, now. She gave Mark a brief reprieve, leaning forward to spit onto his cock. Blood returned to his face, and fresh air to his lungs for a moment or two, before she rocked her weight back into his face.
“Grumpf, grahg, mmph,” Mark struggled between her cheeks. Isabel arched back, applying maximum force. The back of his head hurt as it was pressed into the wood of the table. But his hand was a blur on his spit-moistened dick.
Isabel brought fingers to her pussy. She worked her clit with clockwise and then counter-clockwise movements.
“Aaah, aah!” Isabel moaned with increasing intensity as she felt an orgasm build. She angled her ass to encourage the desperate Mark to snake his tongue farther into her asshole. Her hand abandoned the circular movements in favor of fast, firm, vertical frigging of her clit. She gripped her left breast. Her pink manicured toes left the floor and her feet clenched. Mark moaned underneath her — maybe in pleasure; maybe in pain.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuu — argh!” Isabel cried out as an orgasmic wave ripped through her. She kept at her frigging, risking over-stimulation. The risk paid off, though, as she was rewarded with another, deeper orgasm, which ended with a wild squirt over Mark’s heaving torso. Mark felt every contraction, every tremor, and finally the warm splash of her juice. As Isabel’s spasms ebbed, Mark added his own issue to the mess on his belly and chest.
“Mmruff, argf,” Mark sputtered from under Isabel’s ass as he came.
Isabel rose from Mark’s wet, red face, with trembling legs. Mark gasped for fresh air, at the same time that he found himself licking his lips, still longing for the tastes of Isabel. He looked up at her with a shocked and bewildered expression. Without uttering a word, he nevertheless expressed astonishment over what had just happened. He felt completely satisfied, but also drained and powerless to move.
Isabel pulled her little dress over her head and stepped back into her flip-flop sandals. She tossed her red panties onto Mark’s cum-covered belly.
“You can clean yourself up with these, little boy.” Isabel laughed. “Hey, I’ll ping you sometime,” she said, as she walked out.
