A Ray Of Sunshine 1

Casey pulled into the garage and cut the engine to his bike. The woman behind him leaned hard into him, her hands roaming over his jacket, his chest and abs, and lower.

"Hmm...Sunny, you're not gonna get me out of this garage without fucking you."

She moved lower, and grasped his package, straining his jeans. "That's okay." She started to rub him there, and rub herself against him. He knew she was a prostitute, that she was being paid to be nice. That was okay, he expected this from her. However, she was a damn good call girl, better than the second-tier girls at Madame Fang's, where he planned to spend the night after his hotel had been destroyed in a pique of anger by the owner.

She had gotten him to a state of near pain, and he finally dismounted. He undid his jeans and zipper, letting his cock strain against the knit boxers instead of being so confined. She reached over and rubbed him some more, eliciting a small moan from him. "You're fucking good."

Sunny smiled and bent her head, aiming downward. "I did say I am a pro."

He pulled away. "No. I said I'm fucking you. Get off the bike."

She did, smiling at him. He grabbed her ass in both hands, and yanked her hard toward him. He was a good head and shoulders taller then her, and he leaned forward to kiss her hard, hungrily. He hadn't gotten laid in weeks, male or female, and this warm, buxom blond girl was ready for him - or at least acted like it. His hand came up and pushed up her shirt and bra, and started playing with her tits. She moaned into his kiss as he rolled her nipple around in his fingers, pinching it hard. She thrust against him when he did, and he released her from the kiss.

Casey turned her around and positioned her over the bike. She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling, even as she spread her legs. He shoved his boxers off his cock, breathing inward as the air hit his eleven inches, making him twitch. He shoved her short pink skirt up, and was greetedwith a mere thong. Now, for the test, how good of a call girl was she?

He moved one hand down there, and felt the thong, tracing it from the crack of her ass to her slit. It was, surprisingly enough, actually wet. He grinned at her, as she was still looking over her shoulder. He slipped the piece of material aside, and felt the wetness of her slit. She moaned appropriately, and wiggled that sweet ass, wanting more of him.

He kindly obliged, positioning himself outside her, his hand finding her clit and rubbing it to hardness. She turned away from him now, her head bent forward over the bike, long blond hair cascading down. Fuck, she looked fucking good...

He slipped inside her slowly, and she gave him a really good moan, echoing his own. God damn it was hot, and wet, and he just wanted to pound her. Part of him agreed, and he moved slowly, though his whole body screamed to fuck her, and fuck her hard. Then she said, "Baby, we have all night."

Damn, was she an empath or something?. "Glad to know," and then he thrust hard in her, making her cry out. Nature took over, and he began to fuck her hard, in earnest, not caring if she liked it or not, but with her cries of pleasure, he knew she was. The bike rocked, but she held onto it.

"Fuck, here it comes, baby," and he roared as nearly three weeks of built up spunk filled her chasm. She cried out, faking an orgasm, but her muscles still clenched and squeezed him. He chuckled as he continued to release, and stay in her for a moment. He leaned down and kissed her exposed shoulders, pushing her hair aside and then playing with the nape of her neck. "Nice touch, that." He kissed her shoulder again. "But I'm gonna really make you cum."

"I can't wait, baby," she said, and turned her head. He gave her one of those neck-breaking kisses, and then slipped out and off her.

"Midnight Blue has now been christened," he said, and she laughed. He pulled up his pants and tucked himself back in. Then he realized that they forgot to shut the garage door. She pressed a button and it shut automatically, and she took his hand guiding him into the house.

He was greeted by a small kitchette and a huge gas fireplace. A fur rug lay before it, and leather chairs and a couch surrounded it. "Nice," he said. She smiled, went to the kitchenette. "Want anything?"

"Maybe the bathroom."

She motioned to a door off to the side. "Right there."

He leaned over and kissed her, pulling her close and rubbing her back. "Very good," he said, and gazed into her eyes. "I'll be right back."

After performing ablutions, he called Madame Fang and cancelled his appointment for tonight. "Tasha will be very disappointed," she said in Mandarin Chinese, but sounded playful. "She hasn't had anyone to talk to in weeks."

"I've been busy, and poor," Casey replied in the same language, of which the second was a lie. He was literally rolling in it with the last two bank heists, and luckily did not have it in his hotel room, but secreted throughout the island. However, he had his own plans to spend the money. He would have stayed at Madame Fang's for however long it took for the hotel to be rebuilt, or for him to find another place to stay.

"Tasha would take you for half her price, just so she could speak proper Russian to someone."

Casey chuckled. "I believe I'll be over tomorrow."

"Please call me by three p.m. so I can have her schedule cleared."

"Of course, Madame Fang. Have a good night."

He hung up and washed his hands, then stepped outside. Sunny smiled at him, and went right into his arms. "Want the fire on?"

"Why don't you get freshened up. I want to eat you up."

Her eyes brightened, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. He held her close, already stirring. One thing about his immortality - it luckily didn't play havoc on his sex drive. He'd had more women than he could count in his 400 years of life, and he only compared them to the present time. If he started thinking about all the other women - and men - he'd had relationships with and compare everyone's technique to each other's, he'd lose his mind.

He finally let her go, and she grinned at him. "Help yourself," she said and walked away. He

resisted patting her rear. She wasn't a bimbo. She was a whore, but not a bimbo.

Casey found a beer in the kitchenette and flipped the bottle top off with his thumb. He was easily strong enough to do something like that. He settled back and waited, drinking slowly, looking around the room. Off to the side of the fireplace was a hallway that he could see.

Soon enough, she came out, looking prim and fresh. She came right over to him, took the beer from his hand and took a long drink, watching him. Yes, it was erotic. His hands naturally fell to her hips, and he squeezed her gently, massaging around her hips and back. "Now, baby, it's all you."

"You don't have to."

He kissed her gently, "You're supposed to show me a good time, right? Well, I'm gonna make you cum, and that'll show me a good time. Make me think I'm a man, you know?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I know."

He kissed her again, more insistent. "Your house, where do you want it?"

She glanced back at the rug. He kissed and nipped her neck, "So be it," he said, and his hand traveled up, tucking under her shirt and pulling it up. She giggled under his kiss, and then parted when he got it over her head. She pushed off his jacket, and he laid it gently over the couch. As he did that, she pulled his tank top out of his pants, and then her hands went up his sides, tucking around his front, grabbing his pecs. He moaned, and pulled the shirt off. He kissed her, hard, deep, and tucked his hand under the waistband of her skirt - she had removed the belt.

He eased her out of that, kissing down and dropping to his knees. She was so small, so fragile, as he pulled the skirt off of her, and came face-to-face with a nice pair of perky tits. They were definitely fake, and their nipples were large, and wide. He suckled one, and blew on it, causing her to gasp. He undid her shoes while he was down there, suckling the other tit, flicking his tongue across the hardened nipple. She stepped out of her heels, one at a time, making her even shorter.

Then his hands traveled up and took the edges of the thong. Continuing to lick her breasts, he

gave the thong a savage tug at one hip and it snapped apart in his hand. She moaned as he tugged it down, and off of her, and then he got up.

He easily picked her up at her waist, and she giggled as he carried her to the other side of the couch, setting her down gently on the fur. "Turn on the fire," she said.

"Already on," he said and pressed his hardening cock against her leg.

She laughed, "No, the fireplace."

"Ohhhh..." he looked down at her, smiling. "I don't need it to see what I'm doing." He kissed down her, tonguing her belly button and making her squirm. He continued, heading down to her shaved patch, perfectly shaped. He mouthed it, and she moaned. He took a deep breath of her. Unless she could get wet on command - he'd seen that done - she was actually enjoying this, because he could smell how turned on she was.

Hit tongue kept going down, and he saw the prize, glistening with her juices. He tucked his tongue under the hood, licking around her clit first, and she moaned. Then he attacked her clit, and she nearly jumped off the rug. She's quite the little actress, he thought, as he put one hand on one of her hips to keep her still. Her moans made him harder, as they both knew it would, and his other hand released his cock so it rubbed the rug directly. Then he brought the hand back up, and his fingers played with her entrance, stroking her outer lips, dipping every so often inside.

"Oh God, please...please fuck me..."

He eased up on his assault, and she calmed down, and then he slipped one finger inside, getting another moan out of her. He moved his face downward, along with his tongue, and that started playing with her outer lips as his finger moved up to the hard clit. He switched, back and forth, adding another finger inside her. She was absolutely soaked, and jerking with abandon, crying out, begging for him to not stop. Then he stopped dead for one half second, and grabbed her clit with his lips and sucked hard, adding a third finger, and thrusting deeply into her, turning his wrist just so--

"Oh fuck! Casey! FUCK ME!" He felt the walls contract around his fingers. He knew she wasn't faking this one, as she bounced up and down on the rug and he kept his fingers still inside her. He pulled his face away, looking up at her. She was lost in the orgasm, something powerful. He watched, both proud and amazed - and so very hard. He pulled out his soaked fingers, and as she opened her eyes, he sucked them one by one. She closed her eyes and moaned.

Then he positioned himself over her. He easily slid inside of her, and they both moaned at the contact. She was so wet now, that if they used any other position he'd slide right out of her. He kissed her, letting her taste herself on him, and her arms and legs came up, locking around him.

This time he thrust slowly, enjoying it, kissing her, burying his head in the crook of her neck, nipping her or sucking at her skin. Then he went faster, and harder, and the wet sounds of his thrusting into her carried through the room. She moaned at the right places, back in her role as the willing partner, but he didn't care. Again, he growled, "Fuck, yes..." and came deep inside her. She squeezed him again. Damn, she was attentive.

He lay down on top of her, most of his weight on his elbow. She caressed his back, and then he lifted himself to look at her. "How much do you get an hour?"

She laughed. "Five hundred."

He whistled. "Bossman is some rich mother fucker if he paid for you for the night."

"Half price for you biker boys."

Casey rolled off of her and got out of his boots. She watched him move, touching his chest. "You work out?" she asked.

"Sometimes. But I was lucky to look like this many years ago when I was chosen."

"Chosen?"

He finished pulling off his boots. "I was chosen by the Algonquin goddess of the Earth to be Her warrior champion." He shimmied out of his pants, and then turned back to her. "It's a long, convoluted story, and I didn't come here to tell stories." He caressed and squeezed her breast.

"No, you didn't, but we have to talk about something in between fucking."

He chuckled. "Yes, that's true. Care to discourse on quantum physics?"

She laughed at him. He squeezed her breast again, playing with the nipple already hardening. "Think we can get to the bedroom? I'm assuming you have one."

"We have to go through the courtyard."

He looked at her, grinning. "I love fucking in the woods."

"Doggie style?" She leaned over and kissed his chest, her hand roaming over his side, his abs.

"Indian style," he said. "We never used the Missionary position until the white man came along."

"You're part Indian?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Supposedly, but I never found out, as my mother was killed."

"When were you born?"

"1587."

She stared at him. "Seriously."

"In Roanoake, Virginia." He again played with her breast, "Virginia has a special place in my heart. It's probably where I'm going to go to die." He bent to suckle her, and she ran her hands through his hair. Kissing her breast, he said, "Let's take this to the courtyard, shall we?"

She laughed. "If you want to, baby."

He got up and helped her up. She opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out into the cool night air. He watched her get goosebumps and chuckled, pulling her close. He passed a hand over her breast and flicked her hardened nipple. "Chilly?"

She giggled, "A little."

Casey played more with it. "Let me warm you up." He turned her to him, and kissed her, long, slow, and sensual. She melted into him, and he held her up by her ass with one hand, his other hand caressing her back, and squeezing her close so she'd grunt against him. Then, she started moving her hips into him, and the kiss on her side got more passionate. He let her go, taking in a gasping breath. "Fuck, Sunny...what're you, walkin' Viagra?"

She laughed, this time really laughed. "Want to take me on the grass?"

He chuckled, "It's gonna take us all night to get to the bed."

"It'll be worth it." She looked up at him. "Besides, I haven't had a man who gets up so fast and so often in a while."

He caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I bet you say that to all the boys."

"Not -all- of them." She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes in pleasure. He kissed her again, holding her head straight, and she gyrated into his crotch again.

"I don't care if you're lyin' or not," he said, breaking the kiss. He glanced around, looking for a soft place to go. She smiled, took his hand, and led him down the stone path. It was cool on his bare feet, and he seemed to go back in time, another woman, another path, heading into another shady bower. He wore Seneca clothes, then, leggings, loincloth, moccassins, a necklace of amber around his neck. It was spring, then, and he was going to take the maidenhood of Burning Flower, third daughter of the Sachem, in a rite of spring that was passed down for generations.

Just like then, she stopped, and turned to face him. The memory layered on the present day, and he lost himself into that moment. He did to Sunny what he did to Burning Flower, kissed her lips, her face, her breasts, and went to his knees and drew her down on top of him. Unlike Burning Flower, though, she knew what to do. She let him lay down, and started kissing her way downward. He was back in the present, his hands in Sunny's hair, giving her a gentle nudge to go down.

She followed directions perfectly, and when she got to his swollen cock, she flicked it with her tongue, tasting his slick wetness already there. He groaned, as she continued to lick all around his head, sucking in spots, and in the very sensitive spot under the crown, where the foreskin had slipped past. Oh, dear God, she knew what she was doing, and he let go of her hair afraid he would shove her head down onto his dick.

She licked around, and then he did give her head a little shove. She got the hint, and went down on him, taking most of his length. The sound he moaned, uttered, groaned, came from the deepest depths of him. When he came back to himself, he realized that she was a damn sword-swallower. Six inches in circumference, he was momentarily surprised she could take that.

Then he let himself relax, watching her work on him. Some moments would hit him when she'd hit just the right spot, or apply just the right bit of vacuum, or her tongue would flick or he'd feel the back of her throat. He looked down at her, and grabbed a hold of her blond hair. She looked up at him, his cock in her mouth, and fuck he was turned on. "Gonna swallow, baby?"

She lifted her head up, and kept her lips on his tip, saying, "If you want me to."

"No. No, I don't. I wanna see you wear it."

A flick of her tongue on his head made him gasp slightly. "Tell me when, baby."

He tousled her hair. "Then by all means, continue."

He lay back, totally relaxing, letting the sensations come as they may. She worked hard, and eventually he started feeling it in his balls, the tightening sensation, his breathing got faster, and his left hand tore up grass and dirt. Finally, he felt himself clench, and he yanked on her head, lifting her up. She stroked him twice, and then he came, shooting up and all over her face. She laughed, thoroughly enjoying the soaking he was giving her. He watched, smiling, and she looked at him, her face coated with cum.

He grinned. "Natural moisturizer," he said. Then he pulled her up, and licked her face. She moaned when he did, and he enjoyed it just as much. "Got some in your hair, missy," he said.

"That's what showers are for," she said with a smile.

"Indeed," he said, grinning back. "Indeed."

(To be continued)