The Best Fuck In The Month Of September.... free porn video

My designation of the best fuck in September goes to a woman named Kayla. I will provide a more detailed description of this delightful woman further into this blog, but indulge me for a moment.

Here is the scene: it is about 2:00 on a Saturday morning. I am naked, standing on the balcony of a condo in Destin Florida. It faces the beach and beyond it is the Gulf of Mexico—deeply dark in the early morning. The surf softly hisses and roils and in the faint moonlight I can see the lacy froth of the waves as they drift and ebb.

Presently, a young woman—she also is naked--comes out onto the balcony. The woman moves behind me and presses against my back, handing to me on the left side a cup filled with booze. As she stands a mere 5 feet 2 inches tall her huge, gourd shaped, heavy hanging hooters feel so good against my lower back. The young woman feeds my breast obsession as she glides them back and forth a few times. She bends slightly at the knees and drifts them over my ass. I feel their softness and I reach back and down with my free hand to stroke along her side and cop a feel of her right titty that is behind me as I sip my bourbon. She straightens and kisses my shoulders, rubs over my ass with her free hand—she too is holding onto a cup filled with booze. She moves to my right side and leans on the railing.

Her name is Kayla and she is a vision, this woman whom I’ve just fucked. I pull her close and roam a hand down her back, reach further and pat her ass and grip those rich feeling cheeks. Yes, I roam my hand proprietorially over the body of this woman who has brought me so much pleasure since I brought her to this condo Friday afternoon—oh my goodness, what has it been, twelve hours already? I have indeed been on a fuck-binge. She, in turn, moves her hand down my back and again pats and strokes over my ass. I am feeling damned fine right now.

“Damn, Big Daddy,” the big boobed but otherwise diminutive bodied woman says, “that was another good round baby. You pumped my pussy full again with that load of yours.”

The 24 year old woman, more than half my age, just a year older than my daughter, turns to face me and I pull her even closer—savoring the feel of that body against mine, those huge hanging honeys of hers. I take a drink of my bourbon and with my free hand, my right hand, I heft up her left tit, such a nice big titty—I jiggle it, bonce it lightly, and let it drop. I do that again. And I do it a third time. There is breast reduction surgery somewhere in her future—but for now, they are simply incredible.

Kayla sips her own drink, absently—yes, she has turned out to be a true party girl--and reaches with her free hand to fondle and feel my balls.

In the soft glow spilling from the room, with her in profile, Kayla looks fabulous in the play of light and shadow over her tit, over her shoulder, over her face. Yes, she is indeed a tit man’s dream girl. And with Kayla’s hand cupping and gently playing with my balls—well, even though I did indeed shoot off inside her just a few minutes prior, emptying my balls into the humid depths of her pussy—my cock is stirring.

“Oh Big Daddy, I felt these big balls of yours when you were laying out on top of me—they were smacking against my ass as you humped me like crazy. Damn, baby, you really got after it that time.”

Yes, Kayla did indeed provide the best fucking I had in September.

She had stifled a yawn and I had set down my drink, taken my cock in hand and moved behind her, “Okay little girl, let me get in one more fuck and then we’ll tuck in for some sleep.” I had roamed my hands all over that sweet body, grabbed and groped her ass, fondled and felt her titties and juggled them and made them jiggle. I had reached down and fingered into her pussy—finding it ready some dick.

“How do you want me this time, baby?”

“Turn around and bend over little girl. I want to look down on that sweet ass of yours while I’m taking another go at that pussy.”

I had taken my time with that fuck. Moving slowly, picking up the pace to make her grunt, our bodies pap-pap-papping, Kayla’s titties swinging and swaying, then backing down for some long, lush, slow pumps while I grabbed some titty, patted some ass.

I had stood there, humping her, luxuriating in my access to this woman in full sexual bloom. I was proud of my cock, proud of my loads. I marveled at how well this young woman’s body worked for ne, how lovely it was, how sweet and fun she was to fuck. I leered at the memory of all the titty fucking, the cock sucking, the hand jobbing, the pussy fucking she had provided since we arrived here. She had told me right up front, “I’m your ‘never say no’ gal.”

When I warned Kayla that I was close, “Hang in there for me, little girl, I’m getting there, getting close baby girl.”

“That’s it Big Daddy, go wild back there you big dicked man.”

And I had hammered it home—grabbing and gripping Kayla’s hips and pulling her to me in counterpoint to my pumping, her pretty cheeks quaking. I shot off inside her and had howled out in triumph—one more blasting load, my load, my fucking load into the pussy of a sweet looking, big boobed little vixen.

I had stayed inside that pussy for a while and rubbed lovingly over her back, ass, shoulders, cherishing this pleasure giving woman.

Now, I must confess that in deciding with whom I had the best sexual experience for September presented a little bit of a conundrum. As mentioned toward the end of my last blog describing my best fuck in August, Helen and I had arranged to meet weekly on Wednesdays. We had a couple of great rounds in September, getting together for our regularly scheduled “Hump Day” fuck sessions.

Plus, my bed buddy Stella and I spent two very nice days in Jamaica Beach on Galveston Island where we first met several months ago. Stella’s two dress shops had been keeping her very busy and she really needed a little vacation and some good fucking. The woman was horny the entire two day period, yes, we’re talking fucking on the beach, on the beach house deck; once, Stella sucked me off in my car after we had lunch in Galveston. During the night we spent in Jamaica Beach, we got each other off in the 69 position—frankly, a first for me.

Yes, for me, the proverbial adage, when it rains it pours applies as far as pussy, tits and tongue action are concerned. August was sparse, September full of sexual adventure.

And further, I know that in my previous blog I expressed my moral reservations regarding paying directly for sex. Now, as I also mentioned, we men all pay for pussy one way or the other. But the exploitive type of prostitution where a woman is forced to sell herself out of desperation is truly repugnant to me.

All of this is to say that I paid for my best fuck in the month of September. Yes, I paid for access to Kayla’s charms and she was—let me repeat—very expensive, to say the least. But from the very moment Kayla first closed her lips over my shaft and performed that magic with her tongue play over my cock and balls, I knew she was going to be worth every fucking penny. From the moment she first hugged my dick with her big, pretty titties, I knew that as a tit man I was going to be one very lucky fucker. From the moment I first slipped inside her warm, welcoming pussy, I knew I had found a prize.

By way of background, I have a friend who owns this particular condo in Destin. I, in turn, own a duplex near the University of Houston. I rent one side of it to my friend’s daughter at a very low rate. My friend Tommy repays the favor by offering me the use of his condo three or four times a year.

Amazingly, this year my friend and his family were staying in Houston for the Labor Day weekend. A week or so before Labor Day, while my friend Tommy and I were having an after work drink he offered the condo to me. That Labor Day weekend, I knew both of my bed buddies would be unavailable to me—Stella’s dress shops had Labor Day sales, and Helen and her husband were going off to Mexico for the weekend. I wasn’t able to arrange any other sport fucking.

My daughter and her boyfriend were spending the weekend in Galveston with some friends. My son and his girlfriend were going to Austin for the long weekend. So, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. I called Tommy to tell him I would take him up on his offer. Because I didn’t want to waste time by driving, I called to make arrangements to fly into Panama City.

The Monday before Labor Day weekend I was sitting out on my deck, drinking a beer. It was a little before 7:00 pm and I was waiting for Stella to come over so we could “play house.” It was then I remembered something from my last visit to Destin three or months before.

I had taken Stella with me on this trip and after getting in some good fucking on our first afternoon there, she took nap. I made my way to The Back Porch, leaving a note for her to join me. Roscoe is one of my favorite bartenders at the place. It had been mid-week, off season and the place was lightly populated. Roscoe and I struck up a conversation about the state of pussy on this stretch of beach along Florida’s panhandle.

At one point, Roscoe had to go into the back and he was gone a while. When he returned, Roscoe had written out a website address. He told me, “Check this little piece out. She is fucking dynamite. I am told she is so good she only has to take on a hand full of men a month. She ain’t cheap—but the word is she is one of those special, once in a lifetime fucks.”

He went on to explain that one of his regular customers from Chicago who also owns a condo in Destin always reserves her for a couple of days—after his wife returns to the Windy City—he stays down for a “few more days of golf.” He gives this woman rave reviews.

Roscoe then said, “Look, because of the nature of this place, it’s a small town” he had waved to indicate the whole of Destin, “and the way she does business—preferring to hook up with married, older men, she has to be very careful. No offense, Dean. So, if you ever want to call her, use me as reference.”

Well, the next day, again after a couple hours of bucking and fucking with Stella, as she dozed on a lounger on the balcony, I had powered up my tablet and checked out the escort board.

Here is what I found: “Wind down time. Busty, wishing, waiting, wanting to feed your fantasies and fulfill you desires. 42DDDs. Let’s play. 24 yrs old. Only serious inquiries from generous, and mature gentlemen, please. ” There was a phone number.

Some of the sample photos showed a woman of mixed blood; caramel colored skin, almond-brown eyes, and indeed very, very busty. One photo was aimed at chest level. She was wearing a bikini top and had her huge honeys hefted up and pressed together with a red rose snuggly hugged between them.

Had it not been for Stella and her big titties, I would have called right then and there.

Well, sitting out on my deck that Monday evening, a few days before the long Labor Day weekend, I called The Back Porch and asked for Roscoe. He had already left for the day. I left a message for him to call me ASAP.

Then, I called the number on the ad and it went right to voice mail. I left my number and brief details—I was coming into Destin for the Labor Day weekend and I wanted to talk about contracting her services for the entire weekend. I told her that Roscoe suggested I call.

The next morning, while Stella was in the shower, Roscoe returned my call. He said he was doubtful she would be available for more than a couple hours as it was only a few days from the long weekend. But, he would put in a call for me. I made a mental note to drop him a nice tip.
I didn’t hear from Kayla until Wednesday morning! I had already despaired and was searching for alternatives.

Kayla had a soft, but deep voice—not quite husky but a bit breathy. I remember getting hard just listening to her. She asked what I was looking for and for how long. I explained that I was coming in Thursday night, flying into Panama City and after renting a car would drive over the Destin. I was looking for a lay around girl for the entire weekend. I told her my sexual tastes were somewhat conventional—liked all the positions, liked oral, receiving and giving, but that I liked to fuck and to fuck a lot.

There had been a pause. A long pause and then Kayla had said something along the lines of, “Well, I have been invited to a couple of parties—one on Saturday afternoon and one on Sunday afternoon. I haven’t quite committed to either one yet. And, another gentleman has requested my company as well. I need to call him soon.”

I realized at that moment I was being played, but hell, my dick was rock hard.

“Can you hold on just a moment please,” she asked. I agreed, and I waited. And, I waited.

When she returned, Kayla told me she would be available from Friday afternoon, until Sunday afternoon. She would have to take care of one her long time gentleman friends Thursday evening and another one all day Monday—as his wife was leaving Sunday afternoon. Then, Kayla told me how much it would cost.

I winced. And, I almost backed out. I k** you not. My dick went soft.

I realized this deal would put a serious dent in my pussy fund. In fact, I would end up cashing in a CD. I know, I know—I was definitely thinking with the wrong head.

Before hanging up, Kayla told me that she had spoken to Roscoe and he had sent to her a photo of me. I was a bit taken aback as I had no idea when such a photo had been taken—but I go into that bar three or four times during each of my visits to Destin.

Plus, she said, it is nice when the client is attractive, “Makes my work that much more enjoyable.” Yes, yes, I know. I was being played. But dammit all, my dick was getting hard again.

Thursday morning, I flew from Houston to Panama City. I rented a car, and had lunch at Dee’s Hang Out and then headed for Destin. I arrived at mid-afternoon, after doing some shopping for groceries and liquor and beer. Restless and horny, I called Kayla’s number and left a message to let her know that I had arrived and was really looking forward to our weekend together. I confirmed our lunch plans for Friday at AJ’s Oyster Bar.

Tommy also rents a storage bin on the ground floor of the tower of condos, at the parking level. Inside, there are three bikes and, as an avid cyclist, I usually borrow his hybrid. I decided to take a ride and hit a couple of bars and ended up at The Back Porch. The place was busy, college k**s getting in one last round of partying, elders formally ending their summer with a lot of drinking.

When Roscoe finally was able to pull free, he came around the bar and sat down beside me. He patted me on the back and said, “So, you’re doing the deal. Man, I can’t believe you got her for the whole weekend. I mean, she is in so much fucking demand around here.”

I finally asked him if he had ever gotten any of that tail. Roscoe had laughed and said, “Way above my pay grade, dude.” He did admit to driving her every once in a while. She has a client who flies in from the northeast. She says he is a dead ringer for Tony Soprano—God rest John’s soul. But this guy’s place is over in Ft. Walton. I drive her over there and he pays me to stick around close.”

He tried to brush off the hundred dollar bill I offered—but eventually pocketed it.

I got back to the condo just as the sun was setting. It is a nice place, halfway up the building, along the middle. I suppose all the condos have a similar floor plan. There is den to the left, right at the entrance that can double as a bedroom. There is a decently sized kitchen also on the left. A bedroom and bathroom on the right and then the hallway empties into a large living area that faces the balcony and gulf. Much of the eastern wall of the living room is mirrored.

There is a smaller bedroom upstairs, with a small bath. The bedroom looks out onto a small balcony and the gulf as well. The sliding closet doors are also mirrored.

But the nicest feature is that the privacy walls on either side of the balcony, and the height of the condo, makes it convenient—one can sit out naked during the day.

I watched porn that evening and jacked off a couple times. I couldn’t wait.

The next morning, I got up early and got in a good ten miles on the bike. I ate a light breakfast at the condo and took my testosterone treatment. I resisted the urge to jerk out some jism while I showered.

AJ’s is a favorite of both tourists and locals. I arrived a little early, but the place was already packed with people gearing up for the long weekend. I requested a table along the deckway and ordered up a beer. And I waited. I texted to her where I was sitting, yes I was puppy dog anxious.

Kayla arrived. She was a head turning, dick hardening vision. Kayla’s raven colored hair was pulled up into a loose bun, with tendrils dangling down. She wore a yellow blouse, unbuttoned and tied at the waist. Her big titties were bunched up, pressed together by a matching yellow bikini top. She wore blue jean cutoffs. Her tennis shoes had yellow highlights. The young woman wore a modest amount of makeup, and had flawless, caramel colored skin.

She sat down and the tables around us grew quiet for a while. Now, I am in fairly decent physical shape if I say so myself, certainly for my age. I am not vain about my appearance, but I stay well groomed, well-tanned. But I am fifty-one. And she was obviously a very, very young woman. I am white, she was—is—butterscotch brown. I was dressed business casual, she was dressed to make wives and girlfriends fume.

It was pretty obvious that a sugar daddy deal was either going down or already happening.

We had a nice lunch—the little thing sure did like oysters. And beer. Kayla turned out to be a delightful conversationalist. Bright and funny, I couldn’t help but think that her and my daughter would get along quite well. Then, I pushed that thought way, way down—I was here to fuck this woman—get my dick sucked and my balls licked, to get me some titty action, I was here to cum at, on and in this oh so young woman.

It was about 2 o’clock by the time we made it to the condo.

I handed Kayla the rest of the agreed upon amount of money in a bulging envelope. And, as you might imagine, that set things in motion. Kayla peeled out of her blouse to reveal titties the color of peanut butter buoyed up by that pale yellow bikini top.

Kayla had—has—long, soft dark hair that hangs down well below her shoulders which she un-tucked to let fall free. And, as I’ve mentioned, she had flawless skin. Big almond brown eyes, full lips and a pert nose and there was a hint of Asian somewhere in her background. Her titties were indeed big. No false advertising there. Kayla had round hips and as I would discover, a bubble butt that took on a delightful heart shape when she was on her hands and elbows, with it aimed my way.

At this point, I was in a state of complete sexual agitation and arousal. I grabbed a beer and Kayla poured vodka with lots of tonic. We stepped out onto the balcony to the resplendent view of the salt white beach and clear azure water.

She looked so splendid. I had stepped close and rubbed a hand of Kayla’s shoulders. Setting down my beer, I pulled her to me and tilted her head up, “You are so damned beautiful.” And I had kissed her deeply—oh how I wanted to own that woman, I was in such a deep state of lust, I wanted it all, her pussy, her lips, her tits, I wanted it all to the service of my need.

Kayla had set down her drink as well and glanced down toward the beach, calculating whether or not we could be observed, “Baby, let’s get you all comfortable. Then, I’ll show what you’re going to get to play with all weekend.”

Together we had removed my shirt and Kayla had sweetly commented, “Oh Dean, honey—that’s so nice. Look at you, baby. Nice shoulders, chest, oh you look good.” Yes, she was a pro. For my part, I was rubbing over her, yet she gently stopped me from taking off her bikini top.

Then, I had slipped off my shoes and Kayla had pulled down my pants. My cock had sprung free of my briefs, “Oh Dean, you come fully equipped, don’t you.”

“Sit down, baby.” She had handed my beer to me and smiled, “This weekend is all about you, Dean. Let’s see how many times we can make you cum. Shall we?”

I had sat down, sipped my beer and taken my cock in hand while Kayla performed a wonderful striptease. First, she kicked off her shoes and turned around and slowly peeled down her cutoff jeans to reveal a gorgeous ass, round cheeks, bulbous cheeks. I remember moaning at the sight.

She had then pulled down her G-string. Kayla bent over, putting her hands on the low patio table and wagged her ass at me, “How’s that view Dean, you like that view?”

And I did like that view. Kayla had stood up, and with her back still to me, removed her bikini top. And, yes I could see those titties from around her sides. She had twisted at her torso to make them swing even more prominently into view. Fucking incredible!

When she had turned around, I had lifted my hips up, jacked furiously on my cock and yelled, “Son of bitch! Look at you! Oh fuck you’re beautiful, damn look at those fucking titties.”

Kayla’s pubis was completely shaved, revealing perfectly symmetrical, slightly puffy pussy lips.

“Oh baby,” Kayla had bent over and let her titties dangle down, “Look at you jacking on that gorgeous dick. You do like what you see, don’t you? I love it when a man jerks off to me”

When Kayla stood straight up and pressed her legs together, there was the delightful gap, forming that triangle of sunlight at her upper thighs and pussy. She had done a little shimmy of her shoulders and made those titties flop and swing and I had moaned.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Kayla had moved toward me to let me get my hands and mouth over that sweetly, outrageously proportioned body. And, I enjoyed that wonderful touch of a lovely young woman. I reached up for those titties and Kayla bent over slightly so I could suck on them, bury my face into their lushness. I gripped her ass and rubbed up and down her thighs. I lifted up her left leg and bent into her pussy, licked her clitoris, savored the sound of Kayla sighing, “Oh yes, baby, you need to know me all over.”

The faint smell of her female musk, the clean, soapy aroma of her thighs hinted at coconut and sent me even deeper into lustful abandon.

Then, Kayla had gently pushed me back into the patio chair, reached down and handed my beer to me, “Sit back, honey. Let’s get you taken care of before you bust a nut.”

She had tossed down a seat cushion and knelt before me. Those fucking titties had looked so fucking fantastic. I couldn’t stop staring at them. I couldn’t stop jacking to them.

Before getting down to business, Kayla had kissed the head of my dick and then looked up at me, “So, Dean, honey. What should I call you?”

“What?”

“What shall I call you, baby? How about daddy, you want me to call you daddy?”

A recent sport fuck named Mandy had used the moniker Big Daddy for me.

“Big Daddy, you can call me Big Daddy.”

Kayla had then given my balls and cock a lush lick with her tongue—causing me to moan, “Oh yes, Big Daddy.”

“Now, what do I call you little girl?”

“Oh baby, oh Big Daddy, I’m your fuck bitch. I’m here to get you up and off as many times as possible, you can call me whatever works for you.’

“Okay, little girl, get down on that dick—give me some pleasure down there.”

“Yes, Big Daddy, tell me what to do—tell me how to make it happen for you. I’m your little fuck bitch.”

And so, I would play dominant and she would play submissive. Kayla did turn out to be a really good playmate. That first go, Kayla sucked me well, really, really well. Her tongue action was incredible. She did the porn star spitting thing until threads of saliva were dangling from my cock and her chin. It had been a slurping and saliva soaked sucking, wonderful, alternated with some equally delicious titty fucking. And, during pauses between the cock sucking, ball licking and titty action, Kayla hand jobbed me, asking, “Is this working for you Big Daddy, tell me how to make you happy, baby.”

Sitting there, on the balcony of Tommy’s condo, I had glanced every once in a while to my right to look about beyond the dune line to see if anyone was close enough to watch us. There were people playing in the surf, seagulls cawed and creaked, and the wind rustled around. I felt so fucking fine, getting my dick sucked and my balls licked in the middle of the afternoon by this young, oh so young woman. And as she worked on me, I would reach down and cup her titties and fondle them and rub over the nubs of her nipples.

Yes, throughout that first blowjob, I ran my hands over her sweet, sun warmed shoulders, along her arms. From time to time I put my hand on the top of Kayla’s head to guide the bobbing up and down along my hard shaft, telling her things like, “Yeah, suck that dick you pretty little fuck bitch.” “You’re my little cock sucker today.” “That’s it, make me happy down there, little girl.”

She took me to the edge a few times, and I would press my hands against the side of Kayla’s head to stop the action until I regained control. What was impressive about this young woman was her dedication to the sucking—Kayla stayed with it for the longest time, licking my balls, licking my dick, kissing my cock, sucking it, for the longest time. Then, there was that delightful jacking on me with her huge honeys. Incredible, fantastic.

Now, I’ve enjoyed some wonderful blowjobs in my time—and my current bed buddies, both Helen and Stella, are quite gifted in this regard. But, again, if I had to use one word to describe that suck job Kayla gave me that afternoon, and periodically throughout the weekend I was with her, is “dedicated.” She was fucking dedicated to the sucking.

I recall looking down several times on the scene and seeing those titties swinging and wobbling slightly as Kayla’s head bobbed back and forth. I remember a few times taking those boobs in hand and hefting them up for some more titty fucking. They had felt so damned good, dense, handfuls of hooter as I hugged my dick with them and as Kayla had humped away. Kayla was sweet, urging me on, calling me her Big Daddy, her talking about how fine my cockhead looked as her titties worked up and down on my shaft. Kayla had spat and dribbled more spittle into her cleavage.

While I was gripping and groping over her titties, Kayla was running her hands over my thighs, abdomen and chest, looking up at me, smiling, leering. A real pro.

Then, I heard some people next door laughing and talking. It sounded like they had just come up from the beach.

“Don’t worry about them baby, you’re the one getting it, Big Daddy. Stay with it, oh Big Daddy you need that pleasure. Stay with it.”

For my part, I remember all that wonderful tit flesh against me, watching them ripple and quake as she used them on me them. Then, she would alternate lifting up one tit, and lowering the other one—messaging my dick with them. Then, back to the sucking and licking.

Yes, she was fucking dedicated. That first climax was mind blowing—forgive the cliché. As she periodically hand jobbed me, staring intently at my cock Kayla had encouraged me, “Oh Big Daddy, let it go, take that pleasure baby. No need to hold back—you’re going to get to cum over and over—I’m your never say no girl, baby.” Then, she had gone back to the sucking.

I had sat up a bit and warned her that I was getting close. Kayla had pulled her mouth free of my cock and leaned close, “Put it all there, Big Daddy.” She had preened, lifted up her titties as I jacked like a madman to them. Then, I blew cum all over those beauties; I had spewed my spunk. Kayla laughed, “Oh shit, you were loaded up Dean. Look at you go, baby, oh yes, be proud, Daddy. These are your cum catchers.”

Kayla had reached over and picked up the beer bottle that I had at some point set down. She handed it to me, but otherwise maintained her position—her cum spackled titties sat there in my lap. I had gazed over the scene, and remember reminding myself, “Worth every fucking penny.”

Finally, Kayla had stood, gone into the condo and returned with a fresh beer, a fresh glass of vodka and a wash rag. She cleaned me up and toweled me off.

“Do you want me to stay naked for you, Big Daddy?”

“Oh yes, I like looking at you.”

As she had lain down out on a lounger, Kayla had told me, “You just let me know when you’re ready to get worked up again.”

I had told her, “I’m going to need that pussy soon.”

“It’s right here for you.”

We talked a while, her telling me about the area, some of the things she liked to do, places she liked to go. A little later, as I sat beside the prone woman, I resumed my jacking off. Kayla looked incredible. Her knees were slightly raised and legs parted. Her big beauties sagged down and to the sides, piling onto her upper arms.

Well, I got up and went down on her. I have always been proud of my oral skills. And, Kayla seemed to enjoy the attention. I, too, was dedicated. I worked that pussy. I licked and kissed that pussy. I tongue fucked that pussy. That pussy got wet, real wet.

After a time at it, I had risen up and looked onto the lewd scene; her glistening crotch, her half shuttered eyes, her slack mouth, and Kayla, that sweet professional sex provider had said, “Damn Big Daddy. You’re magic down there.”

True or not, it sounded good. Then, she had looked at my hand on cock action and reached out for me, “Oh baby, come here and get your reward.”

Kayla was laid out on the one, wide lounger on the balcony. She adjusted the back, lowering it so she was more at an incline. I had jacked on my dick all the while—her titties were wobbling and her pussy was moist. And I was jacking.

When Kayla lay back, she had spread her legs, “Come and get it.”

Now, you can get your woman to suck your dick and lick your balls. You can slide your dick in between her titties and get off in that cleavage. You can have her hand job you to completion, have her jack out that jism. You can spew you spunk across her face. You can shoot your load onto her tummy or blast it out onto her ass. But unless you slip inside that pussy and hump until you get it done, you have not really fucked your woman.

And at that moment, on that Friday afternoon, with the hot air blowing off the Gulf of Mexico onto my back, the sun cutting a straight line over the balcony floor—my whole universe was centered right there and my need for pussy, for her pussy, was so fucking great, there was no other thought, there was no other feeling, my whole reality was condensed and closed around me—I climbed up on that lounger, between her legs. I had loomed over and then I had slipped inside that sweet, oh so sweet and snug pussy.

Kayla looked and smelled and felt wonderful. As I pressed into her pussy, she had sighed and as I had lain out, spaced out, on top of her, Kayla has gasped and whispered, “Oh shit that’s good dick.”

Wonderful, absolutely fucking wonderful—her warm body beneath me, her warm, soft hands, her fingers tracing over my back, sides, ass and thighs—wonderful. I never wanted it to end.

I sucked on her titties, I kissed Kayla’s neck and cheeks and lips. I loved that tactile, full body to body contact. It seemed that all my nerve endings were firing, the pleasure center in my brain was overloading. Her pussy was at that moment the most special place in the world.

I took my time. I made it last. I fucked that woman. I fucked her and I fucked her and I fucked her. And I fucked her some more.

All the while, Kayla was rubbing her hands over me, occasionally digging in her fingernails, softly kissing and biting my shoulders and earlobes, gasping and sighing and whispering, “Oh Big Daddy such good fucking. Oh yes, fuck your woman, take it, take what you need. I love the way you’re doing me.”

She was so solicitous to my needs, asking me repeatedly if I felt good, it I liked her pussy, if it was all working for me.

For my part, I was repeatedly telling Kayla how beautiful she was, how wonderful she felt, how I loved her hands on me, how that pussy was so fucking splendid.

At one point, I remember asking her, “You like getting fucked little girl? You like having a dick inside you? You like getting it put to you?”

And, pro that she was, Kayla had said, “Oh Big Daddy, I like getting fucked by a man who knows his way around a pussy. And, baby, you really know how to treat a pussy.”

Toward the end of that fuck, however, I had picked up the pace. Kayla, sensing I was close, bit my ear lobe and said, “Pump it out, Big Daddy, give your woman that load.”

I had thrashed around, pummeled Kayla’s body, nailed it down hard. I was actually afraid I might have hurt her. But I simply couldn’t restrain myself. I fucking went pussy pumping crazy.

Kayla had whooped and laughed and yelled out, “Damn Big Daddy, fuck! I love being the reason a man gets off but shit! You pounded that one out!”

I had kissed her and asked if she was okay, to whit she had replied, “Oh baby, no complaints. You are one good pussy fucker. Damn! And I am one well fucked woman.”

Now, I realize she was a professional sex provider and part of her job is to stroke a man’s ego as well as his cock. But Kayla had such a fine body and I was determined to get as much good fucking as possible out of this big tittied beauty.

I had pulled out of her—and after a time, I had taken her by the hand, “Let’s go upstairs and space out on that bed. I need some ore of you.”

Twice on the way up the stairs, I had stopped her. Patted and kissed her ass cheeks, rubbed lovingly over that bottom.

Once in the bed we had engaged in round robin fucking. I took her in every position. Got her on her hands and knees and did her from behind for a while. I laid out on her for some more missionary. I had licked her pussy and Kayla had sucked my dick. I had straddled her at the waist for some titty fucking. Kayla rode me cowgirl for a long time. She had rubbed her titties over me, pressed them over my face while I had grabbed her ass and guided her up and down. I had sucked and played with those titties freely. Bobbed them about, made them jiggle. Kayla had ridden me to her own climax, I’m pretty sure she had a climax—her pussy got very wet and she had gasped and ground it hard against me.

Kayla had then fallen forward, her titties had pressed against me. Then, Kayla had rolled off and moved down where she provided me some wonderful pleasure, using her hangers, her hands, her tongue and lips to fully treat my dick and balls. For my part, my hands were all over every part of that woman I could reach.

At one point, Kayla had leered up at me, “I like getting my men off, but I love watching you cum, Big Daddy. It takes you over, baby. You a fucking force of nature. Now, give it up baby. Let it shoot out.”

And I had. While hand jobbing me, Kayla had cooed and laughed and said, “Oh let it blow, Big Daddy, Oh shit there it is.”

And, “old faithful” did not let me down. I came like a teenager. I had cum coated Kayla’s hand. as I gazed over her lovely body. Finally spent, this lovely woman had then rubbed her titties, those gorgeous hangers, over my man mess, telling me over and over how beautiful my cock was, how mighty my load was—yes, I had lived out a dream.

She had gotten out of bed, tits, ass, arms, legs, face and hair; it was all so nice to watch, and gone into the bathroom. I had pulled up to lean against the headboard. Kayla had cleaned me up, gone downstairs to get fresh drinks for us both. I had laid there, dazed.

We fucked again in that bed. I then had gone downstairs and cooked up a hearty dinner. I had donned some baggy Bermuda shorts, and Kayla had put on her bikini bottoms but had left her tits out.

At this point, the beach was getting quite busy. Weekenders were arriving. Kayla and I ate and drank with vigor, refueling. When Kayla’s cell phone went off, she had looked at the number and exclaimed, “Oh shit. I can’t believe I forgot to call in.”

Kayla would later explain that she had a friend, also in “the business.” When they were on a trick, they always checked in with each other.

Well, Kayla took the opportunity to stroke my ego. She called her “buddy” while I was grilling salmon, some vegetables, pineapple on the balcony.

Apparently, Kayla’s friend was banging a local judge. His wife was out of town.

Kayla had told her friend about my dick, about our randy romps up to that point, yes stroking my ego nicely, whether true in her mind or not, it all sounded sweet. “He is a handsome gentleman, but he fucks like man half his age. You should see that lust-look he gets. Pumps like a madman.”

They had concluded their conversation as, it seems, the judge was getting horny again.

By this time, I was so damned horny myself that I titty fucked her, got my cock sucked and jacked out my jism once more onto her titties and face.

The evening passed by as you might expect, we watched a movie, snacked, drank booze and fucked a couple more times. I especially liked doing her in the living room, watching our action reflected in the mirrored wall, bending her over the back of a chair—oh how those titties would swing and gallop--or having her ride me so I could look around her and watch her ass moving up and down—that pussy gripping my dick.

Around 10:30 or so, Kayla and I took a walk on the beach. Now, this stretch in Destin has a number of hotels on either side. So, it wasn’t easy to find an isolated spot. But from my previous visit with Stella, I knew where to go. And, I remember and still jack off to the memory of Kayla’s moonlit ass as I had humped her doggy style. Talk about howling at the moon!

I began my story with the balcony fuck at about 2:00 in the morning. Afterwards, we had indeed gone to bed—to sleep. I had awakened at some point later, rolled Kayla onto her back and mounted her and fucked her, “Oh yes, Big Daddy, you’re my pussy fucker this weekend, get what you need.”

We awoke around 8:00 o’clock. I had moved down and licked Kayla to climax, or so she claimed. It did get very wet down there. Then, I had climbed on and got in my “first thing in the morning” fuck.

Kayla had kissed me right after my climax and whispered in my ear, “Damn, Big Daddy, you sure do like pussy, don’t you?” Yes, she was a pro.

Kayla had jacked me off in the shower and then we dressed, packed the car for a trip to a stretch of beach that she insisted was very, very private. I loaded a cooler with booze, food, water, grabbed some towels and short-legged lawn chairs, and umbrella and piled everything into my rental. While Tommy’s condo was right on the beach, Kayla had told me that where we were going, we would be able to play.

But first, I took her to breakfast. There is a little breakfast place I like at the Harbor Walk Village. Kayla looked so fucking adorable and sexy. She had donned a bright yellow sundress that accentuated her lovely, coffee-with-cream complexion. Her dark hair was piled up in a chaos of curls and twirls and strands—that “just got out of bed” look. The dress was short, to show off her delightful looking legs and low cut to show her delightful looking titties.

Further, while there was a bikini bra beneath that dress, and her big beauties were slightly buoyed up to provide a breathtaking view of bunched up boobs and deep rich cleavage, those titties were slung low. They had swung and hung about loosely, bobbled and wobbled around pretty freely. And those nipples, hot damn they poked through nicely.

And, every man in the restaurant and probably a few women as well wanted what it was apparent I was enjoying. In fact, the owner remembered me from previous visits. He had especially liked Stella. He approached, winking at me and we traded some small talk while he gawked at Kayla’s breathtaking décolletage.

Kayla had been so sweet. Openly affectionate, she had sat close and was constantly touching me, brushing against me. And she ate, and she ate and she ate some more! At one point, the owner even commented on her avid eating—yes, he had decided to serve as our waiter. Kayla had coyly smiled and patted me on the leg, “Well, we’ve been working up an appetite.”

By the time we had finished with breakfast, I had a raging hard on. I couldn’t keep my hands off her and I couldn’t keep my eyes off her tits. I was so aroused, really worked up. I was ready for some fucking.

As if reading my mind, Kayla had pressed close and ran her hand up my leg, into my shorts and found my cock, “I want to suck your dick baby and then I want to feel you up inside my pussy.”

We had left the restaurant a little after ten and Kayla had been true to her request. Bless the little vixen, when we got into my rental car she had told me, “We have a thirty minute drive Big Daddy. We need to get you taken care of.” She had directed me east along the Emerald Coast Parkway and then a mile or so before we got to Miramar Beach she had told me to pull onto a narrow, dusty lane. At this point, I admit to being a little disconcerted. I had a fleeting image of an obscure, inch or two column buried deep in the Northwest Florida Daily News about a Houston man found bludgeoned to death on a lonely county road.

But, as I say, true to her request, Kayla had pulled a beach towel from the backseat, “Come on Big Daddy, you promised to let me suck you and then you said you would fuck me.”

The Florida panhandle weather in September is very nice. And, Kayla had peeled out of her sun dress, putting her bikini clad body on display for me. I had dropped my Bermuda shorts, not wearing any underwear. I stroked my cock as she had knelt before me, “No baby, that’s my job.”

She had let her tits drop free, and proceeded to give me a fantastic ball licking, cock sucking, hand stroking time of it. After a little while of this great pleasure giving, Kayla had stood up, dropped her bikini bottom, turned around, folded up the towel and placed it on the trunk of the car—as we say in Texas, this wasn’t her first rodeo.

“Come on Big Daddy fuck your woman. My pussy is dripping.”

I must confess, that fucking her in broad daylight on a country road, cars passing by on the highway a quarter of mile or so behind us really set me off on a rump ramming, pussy pumping frenzy. She had grunted and yelped and I had grunted and yelped. That pussy was indeed very, very wet. Her ass looked so fucking fine, her titties had swung and swayed and I had humped away at her like a madman.

Now, a word or two about that ass; as I’ve mentioned, Kayla’s took on a heart shape when she was on her elbows and knees. Kayla wasn’t quite a slim and stacked girl. Heavy up top, of course, but with some rounded hips and her ass cheeks were just fleshy enough to take on that quiver and quake when I was banging her butt. A split second before I climaxed, I had smacked that ass and yelled out, “Take my fucking load!”

I had slam fucked that pretty, big tittied woman.

She had taken a baby wipe to my dick and some Kleenex to wipe herself, Kayla had directed me further east, past Miramar Beach. And after a series of turns, I pulled up onto a little pad of hardened earth that overlooked another of the pristine, salt white beaches so characteristic of the Florida panhandle.

Kayla had explained that this stretch of beach is a hidden secret among the locals, especially nudists. It is rarely patrolled by the sheriff’s department and affords an extended view east and west of anyone approaching.

“We can get naked and fuck to our heart’s content,” she had assured me.

As it happened, that is exactly what occurred. I admit to being quite surprised at the absence of beachgoers, especially on a long, Labor Day weekend. It took a couple trips back and forth from the car to the beach to get our little fuck camp set up.

We got started by spreading sunscreen on each other. Kayla had titty fucked me to completion, me caressing her head, loving the feel of all that female flesh enveloping me, brushing over me, pleasing me. Yes, I sat in one of the short legged lawn chairs while Kayla had sat before me and used those titties to jack on my dick. Leaning back, sipping on a Corona in the sun, while a big tittied woman more than half my age played her huge honeys over and around my cock was simply pure delight.

I had shot another milky load.

At this point, I had concluded this woman was sex personified!

We played in the water for a while. It was bathwater warm. We hugged and kissed and fondled and felt each other. She was just so much damned fun to play with! I jacked on my dick. She jacked on my dick. I groped and jiggled her jugs. I patted that ass. And then, I had laid her out on the beach, just beyond the wave line and fucked her missionary style—Kayla telling me I was a wild man, a fucking force of nature. Again, she was a fucking pro, a pro at fucking.

The four or so hours we were there, Kayla and I were only interrupted three times. A couple sheriff’s deputies did indeed come along, slowly moving on ATVs. Kayla had cloaked herself in a beach towel and I had pulled on my Bermuda shorts. They had waved and ridden off. The second time, an elderly couple holding hands had slowly had ambled by and the third time a pack of young people had walked by, drinking from big cups and laughing.

My favorite fuck that afternoon had been a long, lush go at it with Kayla riding me. I had licked her into readiness. She had sucked me into readiness and then mounted me. We made that fuck last. Our bodies were shiny and slick with sunscreen and perspiration. We were quite simply rutting, me functioning at a very primal level—just needing pussy, needing tongue and tits and hands all over me. And, that sweet looking, huge boobed beauty had been so accommodating. I played with, sucked on, buried my face into those tits, grabbed that ass; smacked that ass. She was a fucking delight; she was a delight to fuck.

Our final go while at the beach, I had laid out flat with some towels as a pillow. Kayla had dribbled sunscreen over my cock and began to jack me off. She sat on her hip, on my right parallel to me, and positioned herself so she could rub those titties over my chest and face. I had sucked on those button hard nipples, kissed those fun bags, moaned into them while grabbing ass as that young woman had cranked on my digit. It had taken a while, but she was a trooper and brought me to climax, “Oh Big Daddy, look at you cuming all over my hand.”

When we arrived back at the condo, I ordered a couple pizzas from Fat Daddy’s. Kayla thought it funny, “Here I am getting fucked by Big Daddy and now I’m eating Fat Daddy’s pizza.”

At this point, I was pretty well fucked out and exhausted. After a couple slices of pizza and a couple beers each, we had stretched out on the loungers and dozed. I was still in my Bermuda shorts, and Kayla was in her bikini. I have no idea how long I slept, but when I awoke, Kayla was still asleep. I got up and took the trash to the shoot—trying to keep the place as neat as possible.

Grabbing a beer, I dropped my shorts and went out onto the balcony where Kayla lay. Her big titties were graded to the sides, barely covered by the top. After glancing down toward the beach, I had turned back to face the lovely woman and, yes, started jerking on my cock.

She had finally stirred, opened her eyes and seeing me jacking off to her, she had laughed, “Dean, honey you are such a horny man. Come here Big Daddy, I keep telling you, that’s my job.” And, I had moved in for another wonderful cock sucking. After doing her missionary and doggie style, I had cum on her ass, yelling out that today she was my fuck bitch! Her wagging her ass at me as I jacked like a mad man, her telling me, “Oh yes, Big Daddy, let it all out there—claim that territory.” Spent, I had dick spanked her and then Kayla had gone into the kitchen to prepare herself a gin and tonic—leaving my cum on her gorgeous bottom.

I told her again how her body worked so well for me, that she had me fucking like a teenager. She had bent over and kissed me, “No baby, you’re fucking me like a man, a real man.” Yes, I’ll say it again, she was a pro.

I continued to get after that pussy, getting in some titty fucking, cock sucking. I licked and kissed her pussy—getting a few yelps and gasps of pleasure out of her. We rutted and romped into the night. Now, I didn’t cum each time, but she had my dick hard for much of the evening.

A couple times, Kayla and I had gone up to the bedroom on the second story, and she had used those huge honeys of hers to give me a full body rub—along my back, ass and legs, and the rolling me, brushed and dabbed all along my front. That got me worked up very nicely thank you very much.

Sunday morning, I awoke to the dawning day and the realization that Kayla was going have to leave me sometime around three in the afternoon in order to ready herself to attend to another client. I was determined to get in as much fucking as I could.

Now, as a personal note, I love being able to wake up and just mount my woman for a “first thing in the morning” fuck.

I had rolled Kayla onto her back and fingered into her, massaged her clit, “I need that pussy again.” Kayla, pro that she was had reached down and fondled my dick and gently pushed and pulled me on top of her, “Oh yes, Dean baby, you haven’t had any pussy for a few hours—big balled man like you needs his pussy. Come and get it, baby, cone get what you need. I’m spreading my legs for you baby.”

We had stayed in bed most of the morning. After brewing some coffee, I had turned on the news programs but I couldn’t keep my hands off of Kayla. We cuddled and I clung to her. For her part, she was really good at providing me so much tactile pleasure. Her hands roamed all over me, her titties and tongue roamed all over me. Plus, it was so exciting to watch our action reflected in the mirrored closet doors.

The room began to reek of sex. We were both coated with a fine sheen of perspiration. It was so wonderful, I never wanted it to end. I wanted to own her and I fucked that big boobed beauty like there was no tomorrow—forgive the cliché. Finally, around noon, exhausted, we showered. I shaved and began to feel the soreness from all my exertions.

My final climax with Kayla was a few minutes before three in the afternoon. She had said she wanted to suck me off, and she wanted me to cum in her mouth. I had taken her from behind, leaning her over the back of a chair in the living room so I could watch her tits swing and wobble around. Then, I had pulled her on top of me so she could ride me, then reverse cowgirl. Next, I used those titties to hug my cock and then, oh my goodness, Kayla had provided me another of her trademark suck jobs.

Kayla had pressed her tongue against my shaft as she hugged, gripped my dick with her soft, moist lips. Her head had bobbed up and down in a steady rhythm. And the climax had been mind-blowing, heart stopping, absolutely incredible.

Twenty minutes later, she was showered and dressed and at the door. I was still naked,, and I kissed her. She suggested that I call her on my next visit to Destin—she gave a nice discount to repeat customers—and then Kayla was gone.

I wasn’t scheduled to return to Houston until Tuesday morning, and frankly was a little concerned how I would spend Monday. I admit, after Kayla left, I slipped into that state of low grade lust I always feel an hour or so after one of my fuck buddies leaves. I was also a little down.

I cleaned up the place. Changed the sheets and tossed the messed, sex-soiled ones onto the washing machine. I wiped down the kitchen. By five or so, I was restless. So, I went downstairs and retrieved one of Tommy’s bicycles. I got in a few miles and pulled into The Back Porch.

Roscoe was just coming off his shift, when he noticed me and sat down on the next stool.

“So, dude, guess you’re the big swinging dick this weekend.”

You have to picture Roscoe. He is linebacker big. A teddy bear. In addition to having a couple fuck buddies, he also is having an affair with the wife of an Okaloosa County sheriff’s deputy; Roscoe is walking on the wild side. I learned this from some of the pillow talk with Kayla in one of our conversations between fucks.

At this point, he had picked up his cellphone and showed me four texts he had received from Kayla over the course of the weekend.

From Friday afternoon, “Everything good. Dean seems like a nice guy. And for once I get to fuck around with someone who is in good shape.”

From Saturday morning, “This man can fuck!”

From Saturday afternoon, while we were frolicking naked on the beach, “We’re at the beach. Earning my pay this time! No fuckee and suckee and then sleepy time for this guy. It’s all fuckee and suckee! Lol

And from Sunday afternoon, after she had left me, “On my way to George. My kitty is tired!”

I actually wrote down those texts in a moleskin notebook that I always have with me, I had to laugh.

Roscoe and I chatted a while. He had Labor Day off—said he was going to party with some friends. And, he invited me to join them. It was a beach party. I declined.

He asked me how it had gone with Kayla. I was flat out honest: some of the best fucking I’ve ever had. And those tits, hot damn those tits were perfect.

I also confided that she was damned expensive—worth every fucking penny, but I simply couldn’t afford to this more than once a year. And I wasn’t getting any younger.

I also told him with the weekend I had just experienced I didn’t know what I would do with myself on Monday. Now, in the three years or so that I’ve known Roscoe, coming over to Destin three or four times a year, I have come to consider him something of a fixer. I’ve seen him direct college age tourists to local pot dealers. Once I witnessed him connect a bar customer with a guy wanting to sell a sailboat. I’ve heard him arrange bail for a buddy. Once, when a waitress complained about her broken refrigerator, Roscoe had taken care of the problem for by the time she had ended her shift. As a man in the business of making deals—I appreciate his talents at matching needs to supply.

After all, he had connected me with Kayla.

As the bartender Tammy had placed a fresh pint in front of me and bourbon and coke before the big guy beside me, Roscoe leaned over and showed me a photo of a woman in her mid-forties. Farrah Fawcett hair and a toothy smile, pretty in a MILF kind of way. The next shot showed her in a baby blue bikini. My interest and my cock stirred.

Roscoe went on to explain she was single mom with a “shit for brains” teenaged son and a “destined to live her life out in a trailer park” daughter. But the woman, Mags, was a sweetheart who worked as a secretary for a local trucking company. She was not averse to earning some extra money from time to time. Was I interested? He cautioned that Mags could not do a sleepover, but she might be available tomorrow. Now, for all my moral qualms about flat out buying pussy—I nodded my assent.

He had asked, “An hour, two hours?” I had replied, “I need an all-day girl.” He had laughed, “Damn, dude, you’re the big swinging dick in the room.

But, I do like having a lay around girl available to me. Roscoe had stood up and moved to the back of the room, out of earshot from Tammy.

When Roscoe had sat back down he told me, “Here’s the quote,” and he had priced out the deal. Again, I had thought—fuck! But I knew I would be so damned horny come Monday morning.

Still, I explained to Roscoe that there was no way I could get that amount of cash on a Sunday or Labor Day Monday. Roscoe had looked away thinking. He asked me what time I was flying out on Tuesday. I told him. He then agreed to front me the money—but I had to have it back to him first thing Tuesday morning. I think I was a bit touched by his trust in me. But, I also realized at that point that old Roscoe took a little commission for these deals. I nodded again—and Roscoe had texted to her the confirmation.

Well, I did call her, right at nine. Mags had a sweet little southern accent and asked if I really wanted her for the entire day?

An hour later, there was knock on the door. Mags, short for Margaret, stood about 5’4” topped with bleach blonde hair, a Florida tan, pretty brown eyes, big eyes. She had full lips and bright white teeth. As I mentioned, Mags was in her mid-forties and looked like she was still working to stay attractive. She sported a sleeveless silk shirt, some buttons undone to reveal a nice run of cleavage. Her shorts were—well, short. Mags took in the condo. I explained it belonged to a buddy of mine back in Houston. I used it a few times a year—my buddy and I did favors for each other.

I handed her the money and she put it in her bag. Mags was not, of course, as young and lithe as Kayla, nor as busty. But when we undressed, I discovered a very nice looking MILF body. Such pretty titties, more than a hand full, faint stretch marks to attest to their naturalness. Wide hips, neatly trimmed pubic hair, tan lines, a little thick in the thighs, broad bottom.

For our first fuck, I had led her upstairs. I had licked her good. And she had sucked me nicely. I came inside her while fucking missionary style.

We had rolled around a little later—and I had banged out another load while doing her from behind. Mags liked to watch us in the mirror. She was a little nervous about fucking on the balcony—but then, she started drinking. It was clear to me that this was a woman who led a very stress filled life. Two troublesome teenagers, an ex-husband who refused to help short of legal threats, a beat up house, run down car. She was always on the verge of being laid off at work. Forgive my crudeness, but I was there to fuck her, not solve her problems—yes, that sounds harsh. But I soon discovered this woman wanted to party—to set aside all the bullshit for a while and drink and fuck.

Mags turned out to be a lot of fun. Not as naughty as Kayla, but feisty and frisky, nevertheless. She liked getting her pussy licked—and she was pretty good at sucking dick. She let me cum on her tits, a nice set of hangers for titty fucking. Once, I had also pulled out of her at that critical moment and shot out my spunk across her abdomen. She was a screamer when it came to achieving her own climax.

A little after one in the afternoon, I had ordered a pizza delivered—Mags also liked Fat Daddy’s. A little while after placing my order, I had turned her around and bent Mags over the butcher block island in the kitchen, slipped inside and began to pump away, simply exulting in having my cock in a pussy.

I made it last, grabbing her tits, gripping her ass. I humped myself to the edge and then backed down, did that a few times. Then, there was a knock on the door and a ring of the doorbell. Our pizza. I had pulled out of her, cursing and quickly put on my shorts. I paid the guy and as I was putting the pizza on the counter, Mags had told me that I needed to finish what I had started.

I was glad to oblige.

With Mags, the best climax for me was at the end of one of our fucks on the balcony—I was sitting in a patio chair while she was sliding up and down on my dick, reverse cowgirl style. Now, her titties were really pretty but she had a great looking ass. She obviously sunbathed topless, so the tan lines on her ass were so nice to look at—I was getting grip, smack at and cum on body space no everyone got to see.

She hammered down on me, grunting lasciviously and I had leaned from left to right to take in the view of her flopping, hopping hooters. Her ass cheeks had quaked as I had pulled her down onto me over and over.

And then, right at the critical moment I had slammed up into her and Mags had yelped, “Pump that pussy full!”

It had felt so fucking good. I had felt so fucking grand, just being able to stick my cock in a pussy whenever I was ready for it. I had yelled out in triumph, proud of my fucking. And the sound of our bodies clapping together was loud.

Mags left my place after we had taken a shower together—I had jacked to the sight of her, while grabbing her ass, playing with her titties with my free hand, while she had fondled my balls.

I hurriedly cleaned up the place, changed the sheets again. I sat on the balcony as the sun began to set, reflecting on my weekend. Would I have preferred to have closed out my long weekend with Kayla? Yes, certainly. But Mags was a nice distraction and far better than sitting in that condo watching porn and jacking off by myself.

But I had indeed spent a lot, a hell of a lot, of money for unfettered access to both pussies. Roscoe had been correct, Kayla was a wonderful fuck, vibrant, energetic, always ready to spread her legs, part her titties, hope her mouth to take care of my cock.

Mags had been a bit more standard—but still, a nice woman to get naked with; to romp and rut with. But, again Roscoe had be right, she was a very nice lay.

The next morning, I had gone to a branch of the Bank of America and withdrawn the money to repay Roscoe. We met for coffee at Denny’s and I told him I thought Kayla was a wonderful experience, but I really couldn’t afford her each time I came to Destin. However, I assured him that if I didn’t bring one of my bed buddies, I would definitely call Mags again.

I pretty much slept during the entire flight back to Houston. As I was walking down the concourse I powered up my cellphone. There was a text from Roscoe, “Just talked to both girls. You’re the big swinging dick, no doubt about it!”

There was a text from Kayla, “Had fun. Next time, repeat customer discount!”