He pushed up the blindfold with his freed hands. She had unstrung his business tie for that purpose. He still wore it as a headband when he leaned in to nuzzle and kiss her. He saw what she was wearing—thin gauzy panties and gartered stockings. Such useless, trifling items, but he had developed a taste for them, how they looked on a woman’s body.
Martina rubbed against him meltingly now and her free hand fell to the inner seam of his trousers, cupping and pressing. She kissed his groaning mouth and steadied herself when he jerked her forward by the hips, his thumbs pressing into her panties. When it became too much to bear, he took down the zipper and half-hugged, half-lifted her into penetration. He hadn’t even pulled her panties all the way off, just pulled the crotch up aside, and there was a lacy friction as he pushed into her and rocked.
Before Martina he’d hardly known anything about sex. He thought he did. It seemed straightforward enough to him, something that you took because you survived to take it. You were stronger than the others or you outsmarted them.
He’d never known a woman to enjoy it like Martina did, so freely, intensely, with a depth of affection he had never experienced.
It was all too much for him, she sensed that, and she adjusted her stance to ride him out hard. Her voice urged him on softly and lowly, and she strained to reach his face with her cuffed hand, stroking, petting him, and when he came, her thumb was pressing into his eyebrow, her mouth on his mouth, her heat pulling him in.
Picus lay gasping for a moment, coming back to his senses, coming back to the thought that she had watched his face throughout. He had noticed, oddly, that his emotions were always very important to her and she would often ask about them. She was touching his face tenderly now and their eyes met, hers dark and luminous.
Martina smiled gently. “You couldn’t have even waited to take them off properly, could you, baby?” she said. “I got a killer wedgie right now.”
“A what,” Picus said.
Martina laughed. “You know, a wedgie. God, Ron.. if I didn’t know you came from a Vault, I’d have thought a UFO dropped you off or something."
“Is that bad?”
“Let’s lay on the bed, baby.. I've got my spy biz to tell you.. “ She kissed his nose. “Oh and I got some good ones, but first—you’ve got something to take care of, I think.”
Girl from Ipanema 2/?
Martina rubbed against him meltingly now and her free hand fell to the inner seam of his trousers, cupping and pressing. She kissed his groaning mouth and steadied herself when he jerked her forward by the hips, his thumbs pressing into her panties. When it became too much to bear, he took down the zipper and half-hugged, half-lifted her into penetration. He hadn’t even pulled her panties all the way off, just pulled the crotch up aside, and there was a lacy friction as he pushed into her and rocked.
Before Martina he’d hardly known anything about sex. He thought he did. It seemed straightforward enough to him, something that you took because you survived to take it. You were stronger than the others or you outsmarted them.
He’d never known a woman to enjoy it like Martina did, so freely, intensely, with a depth of affection he had never experienced.
It was all too much for him, she sensed that, and she adjusted her stance to ride him out hard. Her voice urged him on softly and lowly, and she strained to reach his face with her cuffed hand, stroking, petting him, and when he came, her thumb was pressing into his eyebrow, her mouth on his mouth, her heat pulling him in.
Picus lay gasping for a moment, coming back to his senses, coming back to the thought that she had watched his face throughout. He had noticed, oddly, that his emotions were always very important to her and she would often ask about them. She was touching his face tenderly now and their eyes met, hers dark and luminous.
Martina smiled gently. “You couldn’t have even waited to take them off properly, could you, baby?” she said. “I got a killer wedgie right now.”
“A what,” Picus said.
Martina laughed. “You know, a wedgie. God, Ron.. if I didn’t know you came from a Vault, I’d have thought a UFO dropped you off or something."
“Is that bad?”
“Let’s lay on the bed, baby.. I've got my spy biz to tell you.. “ She kissed his nose. “Oh and I got some good ones, but first—you’ve got something to take care of, I think.”