Her Master's Voice by Jacqueline George Page B

bracelets on one wrist, earrings, and a cross around her neck. He had held her back from him and luxuriated in the view. She had shivered slightly in the draught of the ceiling fan and the pink tips of her breasts had wrinkled and stood up further. Sherry had nearly perfect breasts. Full, rounded, heavy, richly feminine but just small enough to look elegant. Her nipples shone mauve pink against the whiteness of her skin and the little buttons had wrinkled tight. Last night they stood proudly, whether from the cold of the fan or her excitement, and he had reached to brush them with his thumbs. Her reaction had been extravagant. She dived back to kissing him, but held her body away so his hands could stroke and play with her breasts.
    Her kisses had become more heated and she let go of his head to reach for his zip. Fumbling and clumsy, she had pulled his expanding cock out of his shorts. She had stopped kissing long enough to watch it grow. They had watched together as it stretched itself and a tear came to its blind eye. Then Sherry had lifted herself, shuffled forwards and settled slowly onto his cock. Another shock. Her blonde hair had gone. No more unkempt, natural forest but a smooth mound leading down to pink and delicate frills, now stretched over him. He had stared in delight. She had never looked so pretty, so desirable. At the joining of them, the covered ridge of her clit nodded as she moved on him. The sight was too much for him and instantly he had gripped her tight, his face buried in her shoulder, pumping his all into her.
    He did not know if she had come. He assumed not. In their early days Tim had spent a long time in foreplay, giving her rare orgasms. Recently she had seemed less interested and contented herself with only his orgasm. All the same, it had been a surprise when she had taken his hand and pulled him upstairs. She had left the dishes, left the open door and taken him to the bedroom. Without saying anything, she had gone to his bed and set herself on all fours with her bottom in the air. It had been a moment of great beauty as she leaned forward to put her head on her hands. Her rounded, heavenly bottom in the air, her naked sex peeping out between her thighs, its pink lips glistening wet from both of them. Tim had gone from half-hard to rigid in moments and came up behind her. Holding her steady, he had let his cock nose its own way around her pussy, butting blindly against her softness until its head probed between delicate wet lips. She had sighed deeply as he sank his length into her and started to move.
    It had been too soon after his first orgasm to come quickly, and Tim could relax and shuttle in and out of Sherry as hard and fast as he wanted. He had time to enjoy Sherry’s beauty and listen to her gentle panting with each stroke. The sound had excited him further and he was soon hammering at her like an animal. His orgasm exploded in a rush and he found himself gripping her hips, half on and half off the bed, forcing himself as far into her as he could reach as his spasms died away. He levered her over sideways and they lay together like spoons.
    Eventually, he had felt her moving away, putting a pillow under his head and leaving. At dawn she had slept silent in her own bed and he had left without waking her.
    Pierre Lefevre was kind to him when he arrived in Balikpapan. Alfred waited with the customary bottle of Pernod and a wad of invoices for signing, but this time he brought instructions to catch the Gruman Goose to CampDua, Tim’s favourite way to travel.
    He waited beside the tarmac for the dumpy old Goose to drop out of the sky. Three Indonesian rig hands and an electrician waited quietly behind him. He had not waited long before the fussy drone of radial engines announced the Goose and it slipped over the trees and onto the runway, drab green, fat and heavy. After it had swung to a halt and the engines had coughed into stillness, Tommo threw open the passenger hatch and stuck out